


What I've Overcome

by wolfie_winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M, Sam Ships It, Soul Bond, Winged Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-21 04:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4815659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfie_winchester/pseuds/wolfie_winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While finishing up a hunt for a wendigo, Sam and Dean come across the last thing they expected in the depths of the cavern the creature was hiding out in - an angel with bright blue eyes and broken wings. Determined to help, they take him back to the bunker where he can recover. But Castiel had hidden himself for a reason and it doesn't take long for his tortured past to be dragged into the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was previously SuperWhoLocked_in_the_TARDIS! Thought I ought to let you guys know, since my old username won't link to my current page anymore and I don't know if AO3 changes it on other people's pages - like if you bookmarked any of my other stories. I don't think it does, but better safe than sorry!

After spending almost a week on this hunt, chasing false leads and then _getting chased_ into a cave in the deep of some forest reservation, Dean finds it more satisfying than he probably should to finally see this damned wendigo burst into flames. He really shouldn’t enjoy his job so much, but hey, maybe he’s biased. After all, the monster did just attempt to take a huge chunk out of his shoulder before Sam showed up in the nick of time to fry the bastard extra crispy. Although, the smell of burning flesh leaves a lot to be desired for. Dean coughs as smoke rises from the wendigo’s corpse and reaches out to pat his brother on the shoulder.

 

“That’s pretty nice timing, Sammy,” Dean says, weary grin on his face.

 

“Yeah,” Sam breathes. He puts away the flare gun and takes out his knife to cut loose the three missing campers that the creature’s been keeping strung up like meat on a hook for the better part of the night and into dawn. Dean’s just glad that they made it in time to save them. He wasn’t sure how much time they had left before the wendigo worked up an appetite.

 

After calming the group, Sam and Dean help Ashley and her friends to the mouth of the small cavern the wendigo had trapped them in. The tunnels twist and turn from here, creating a maze that’s all too easy to get lost in. Luckily, Sam thought ahead and marked where they’ve been. All they have to do is follow the trail out. Dean lets Ashley’s boyfriend Chris lean against him as their shoes crunch against the loose gravel.

 

“Hey, did you guys hear that?” Ashley whispers after a few minutes of walking in the dark. The five of them stop and Dean listens for any strange noises, tense in anticipation of an attack. Even though they killed the wendigo, it’s not impossible for something else to be hiding in this cave. He reflexively reaches for his gun, hoping that he won’t have to fire it in such small quarters.

 

Two minutes pass and Ashley laughs shakily, clinging tighter to Sam.

 

“Maybe I was just hearing things,” she says a bit uncertainly. They all nod in agreement, anxious to leave before any other ill fate can befall them. He turns to follow Sam out and that’s when he hears it too, coming from the darkness behind him that extends further into the cave.

“There it is again,” Chris whispers. He looks back over his shoulder, expression filled with dread like he expects something else to come flying out of the dark at them. Dean doesn’t really blame him after what they’ve been through.

 

A raspy moan echoes in the cramped space, bouncing off the walls and the hairs on his arm stand on end. Experienced hunter or not, he hates being stuck in small spaces like this - in the dark with creepy sounds coming from nowhere. But he shoves away his fear and glances at Sam, the two exchanging silent conversation in seconds.

“Can you walk?” Dean asks the frightened camper hanging on his arm. Chris tests his ankle and even though he winces a bit, he nods and on Dean’s instruction, hobbles over to his girlfriend.

 

“Where are you going?” Ashley asks.

 

“I’m gonna check out whatever that was,” he replies. “Someone else could be in here.

 

“What if it’s another one of those things?” the third guy - Mike or something like that - asks.

 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve been doing this a long time,” he tells them. He gestures to Sam. “My brother will take you to your car. You think you’ll be good on your own from there?”

 

The three nod and Sam mouths _be careful_ at him as he leads them out. Dean winks and turns back the way he came, pausing at the mouth of tunnel where he’d heard the noise from before. Dean shines his flashlight beam down the narrow space but it gets swallowed up by the dark after a few feet, making it difficult to see anything. He takes a deep breath and steels himself for whatever might jump out at him, grip on his gun tightening as he creeps further into the depths of the cave.

 

He walks for what feels like forever and the only real reassurance he has is that at least he’s not lost. He hasn’t come to any other forks in the tunnel so far - nothing that could get him all turned around. But the further he goes, the more he starts to think that maybe everyone really was just hearing things.

 

He’s about to call it good and turn back, when he hears a large _whoosh_ that sounds like wingbeats. Dean really hopes there’s no giant bats in here. A wendigo was plenty enough thank you very much. Then a whimper sounds from not very far away, filled with pain and distress. He starts to call out, when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

 

Dean jumps and whips around, flashlight beam shining right in Sam’s face, gun pointed at his chest.

 

“Jesus, Sammy! Don’t do that!” he hisses, lowering his pistol. He waves the flashlight at his brother. “I could’ve killed you!”

 

Sam just shushes him and Dean swallows down an annoyed retort when the noise from before starts up again, followed by a groan. He spins back around, walking with Sam until they emerge into a larger area. The ceiling is a bit higher than in the tunnel and Sam can stand to his full height in here. Dean sweeps the walls with his light, scanning the cavern to find the source of what’s been making the sounds they’ve been hearing.

 

A flash of movement catches his eye and he hears Sam shout his name. The hunter barely gets his hands up in time to block a fist aimed straight for his nose. His attacker recovers quickly though and Dean feels hands grip his jacket, shoving him forcefully into the wall of the cave, the rough surface digging into his back. His gun clatters to the ground and something cold and metal presses sharp against his throat. Dean stills, not even daring to shine the light to get a glimpse of who’s trying to kill him.

 

“How did you find me?” a raspy voice asks.

 

“We heard sounds coming from this direction. Came to investigate,” Dean replies. The voice is silent for a while before Dean hears a click that means Sam must have taken his gun out.

 

“Get off him or I’ll shoot,” Sam warns.

 

“Go ahead,” the voice says and this time, Dean detects an air of desperation. Almost like he’s begging Sam to pull the trigger. “I’d rather die before I let you take me back there.”

 

There’s a beat of silence and then Sam says, “What are you talking about?”

 

“Don’t play me for a fool, human. I know why you’re here. I know who you work for. If you think I’m going to let you drag me back to that hellhole, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

 

“Seriously,” Dean pipes in. He pauses when the blade against his throat draws a tiny amount of blood, the voice growling at him in warning. “Seriously,” he repeats, softer this time, “we don’t know what you’re talking about. We only came down here cause we thought someone was hurt.”

 

The darkness is silent once more and Dean takes the opportunity to raise his flashlight. He catches a glimpse of icy blue eyes before whoever is holding him cries out at the sudden light, covering his eyes and backing away. Dean wasn’t expecting that - only wanted to catch a glimpse of whoever that gravelly voice belonged to. But if he had that bad of a reaction to it, Dean can only wonder how long he’s been hiding here.

 

“Oh my god,” Sam blurts, eyes wide as Dean’s light reveals more of their assailant. Dean follows his brother’s gaze to two large wings erupting from the guy’s back. They’re torn in places - feathers in disarray and some completely missing - but the sight of them alone is enough of an explanation.

 

“You’re an angel,” Dean says.

 

The angel still has his hands over his eyes and Dean has enough sense to shut his flashlight off. The cave is plunged into darkness again, only this time it’s pitch black and Dean can’t see two feet in front of him. But he can hear the rustling of feathers, the even breathing of Sam behind him and the erratic gasps of the angel in front of him.

 

“What are you doing here?” Sam asks.

 

“Hiding, from monsters like you,” the angel snaps. Dean’s eyes start to adjust and he can see a vague outline of the creature in front of him, but only his pale body. His ink black wings are practically invisible like this.

 

“I think you got it mixed up, angel. We’re not monsters. We hunt them,” Dean says.

 

“You think I don’t know that? You think I didn’t learn that when I spent ten years locked in a cage because people like you hunt ‘monsters’ like me?”

 

“We’re not like them, okay?” Dean assures him. “We only hunt the bad ones. The ones that like killing people.”

 

“Like that wendigo,” Sam says.

 

“You killed it?” the angel asks. He sounds a bit pissed off about that and Dean can't think of a reason why.

 

“You can’t tell me that thing was doing any good up here. The only thing it was concerned about was its own hunger. I’m surprised it didn’t try snacking on you,” Dean says.

 

“I believe my wings and my blade were sufficient enough to keep it in its place,” the angel replies. “And I was not ‘friends’ with it, if that’s what you’re thinking. It only served as a security system of sorts. For people like you who came looking for me.”

 

“So you were fine with it just killing people?”

 

“As long as it meant I wasn’t being dissected and experimented on, then yes,” the angel snaps.

 

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that. Luckily, Sam swoops in to save him.

 

“Look, why don’t you come with us? We can protect you.”

 

Dean hears a hollow laugh that sounds wrong coming from a celestial being.

“I’ve heard that one before. Sorry, but I’m going to have to decline. And if you try to force me, I can assure you it won’t end well.”

 

“But-”

 

“Leave. Before I change my mind and drive this blade through both of your hearts.”

 

Dean swallows and he flicks the flashlight back on, aiming it at the ground as he walks over to where Sam is standing. The angel is looking away from the light, a hand partially shielding his eyes. Dean inhales sharply when he sees the state the angel is in. His chest is bare, tatters of an old coat hanging off his shoulders. The pants he’s wearing have dozens of tears in them and Dean wonders if they used to be white or tan before they got caked in so much dirt and blood. There are scars littering the angel’s body and Dean can see each of his ribs. The sight of the poor creature is almost enough to make him sick.

 

“God, who did this to you, angel?” he murmurs, shaking his head.

 

“Like I said,” he replies quietly. “Monsters.”

 

Dean takes a step towards him in an attempt at comfort but the angel backs away, shoulders tense and wings arching high as they can in the small space - a display of aggression, no doubt. Dean watches as the angel raises the blade in his hand in front of him to defend himself.

 

“My demand still stands. Come any closer and I _will_ kill you.”

 

Sam grabs his arm and tugs.

 

“Come on, Dean. Let’s go,” he whispers.

 

“Sam, we can’t leave him here. He’s hurt!” Dean insists.

 

“He doesn’t want our help,” Sam reminds him.

 

“But he needs it.”

 

When Dean looks back at the angel, he sees a curious expression on his face, replacing the anger from before.

 

“Sam and Dean? Surely not Sam and Dean Winchester?” he says, eyeing the both of them suspiciously.

 

“Yeah, that’s us. Why?”

 

The angel relaxes marginally and his wings return to their natural position folded behind his back.

 

“I’ve heard many things about you. When I was...where I was before...I heard them talk about you. About how you’d thwarted their plans time and again. How you saved innocent creatures from being enslaved like I was. You rescued my younger brother, Samandriel,” the angel says.

 

Dean remembers that. It’s been almost eight years since then, but he still recalls encountering a young angel on the side of the road. Sam had been the one to spot him lying on the ground, broken body covered by brown owl-like wings. It was their first time dealing with a job like this - John had never really prepared them or told them about the hunters that bought and sold creatures on the black market. They’d taken the poor, shaken angel to Bobby’s and the older hunter filled them in on all he knew about trafficking rings that operated around the country. Just listening had made Dean angry on their behalf. He definitely wasn’t going to go out and hug the next vampire he met, but at least he was less inclined to shoot first and ask questions later.

 

It had been about a week before Samandriel was fully healed and he remembers the angel asking if they’d managed to find his older brother. When they couldn’t give him the answer he wanted, he’d flown away with a crestfallen look on his face. Dean had always wondered about that and now he supposes he has his answer.

 

“Have you seen him?” the angel asks, snapping Dean out of his memory, “Samandriel. Have you seen him recently? Is he alright?”

 

“He was fine when we last saw him. But...that was a while ago,” Sam says.

 

“How long is a while ago?”

 

“Almost eight years,” Dean says, hearing an exhausted breath in reply.

 

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Hunters have taken an interest in our kind as of late. Most of my kin are probably making the wise decision to lay low for a while,” the angel says. Dean hears the rustling of wings again. “Angel feathers go for a very high price on the black market.”

 

Dean raises his flashlight a bit higher, careful to avoid the angel’s eyes and he grits his teeth when he sees patches of feathers torn away from the skin of the large wings. A few have started to grow back in, but for the most part, his wings are shredded.

 

“Those bastards,” Dean seethes.

 

“I couldn’t agree more,” the angel says with another empty laugh.

 

Dean presses his lips together, thinking. He really should try to convince this guy to come with them. There’s no way he’s going to let him live in a freaking cave for the rest of his life. Which will probably be forever unless something kills him. _Or he does it himself_ , an unhelpful voice supplies. The angel had definitely sounded resigned to it when they found him and for some reason, the thought settles unpleasantly behind his ribs, his chest aching.

 

“Come with us,” he says. “You know who we are. You can trust us, angel. I’ll protect you. I swear.”

 

The angel is silent for so long that Dean thinks he’s definitely going to say no.

 

“I owe you for helping my brother. I’ll do what you want,” he says eventually. Dean supposes it’s the best answer he’ll get at the moment. He refrains from pointing out that this isn’t about what _they_ want. It’s about what’s best for the angel - getting him back to full health and helping his wings recover.

 

“Great,” he says instead. He picks up his gun from the floor and puts it away before holding out a hand, slowly this time so he doesn’t come across as threatening. “Take my hand. I'll take you outside.”

 

Those blue eyes pierce his own for so long that Dean is certain the angel is staring into his soul, assessing it to see if he’s telling the truth. Whatever he’s looking for, he must find because a frail, bony hand slips into his own and grips tightly. Dean is gentle but firm and he follows Sam to the exit, keeping the angel close behind him.

 

Dean blinks, eyes watering as they exit the cave. The sun is beating down on them, the temperature out here way higher than inside. Dean sees the shadows of the angel’s wings move and he figures that he’s shielding himself from the rays of light shining so brightly.

 

“You okay?” he asks, hand hovering over his own eyes to block out the sun.

 

“I haven’t seen the sun in a while. I rarely left the cave and when I did, it was night,” the angel replies. “But I will adjust eventually. Don’t worry about me.”

 

Dean, being himself and therefore a natural worrier, ends up doing just that. He slows their pace so the angel doesn’t end up tripping over tree roots or fallen logs that they might happen upon. His bare feet are rough and calloused from his time in the cave, but he still winces every time he steps on a rock or a sharp stick. The angel starts stumbling after a while and Dean can see that he’s leaving behind bloody footprints. He knows that it’s probably not the best idea, but he still takes the risk of lifting the angel into his arms bridal style.

 

“What are you doing?!” he exclaims. His wings smack Dean in the face and he splutters, spitting out the velvety feathers.

 

“Carrying you, idiot,” Dean snarks, “Get used to it cause I’m not letting you walk on those feet all the way back to the car.”

 

The angel scowls but he stops trying to topple them both over with his wings. Except that they keep moving and Dean ends up having to readjust his grip a few times before eventually, the angel huffs and rolls his eyes.

 

“I have a better idea, if you’d be so humble as to hear it,” he says, quirking an eyebrow.

 

“What?” Dean mutters. The angel, instead of answering like a normal person would, simply wriggles out of Dean’s grip and back to his feet. Dean sees him wince, even though it’s obvious he’s trying to hide it. Rather than mention it though, he simply gestures at him and asks, “And what did that accomplish?”

 

“Get on your knees.”

 

Dean’s brain short-circuits and he blinks a couple of times, heat rising along the back of his neck.

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t be obscene, assbutt. It’ll be easier if you carry me on your back,” the angel says exasperatedly.

 

Dean takes a second to process and then does as he’s told, waiting until the angel hops onto his back. Dean stands, hooks his arms around the angel’s legs and he feels skinny arms encircle his neck.

 

“There,” the angel says, almost smugly. Dean sighs and is glad that his winged companion can’t see the epic eyeroll he does. His brother, on the other hand, has been standing there watching this odd exchange and he stifles a laugh at the look Dean gives him.

 

Dean just shakes his head and continues along the dirt trail, following Sam to the parking area of the reservation, the black shine of his Baby glinting through the gaps in the trees. As he lugs the angel along on his back, a thought occurs to him and he turns his head as much as he can to cast him a look, an amused glint in his eyes.

 

“Assbutt?” he says, recalling the insult from earlier.

 

“Problem?” the angel says innocently, challenging him to say something. Dean just chuckles and looks forward again.

 

“You should come up with better insults, angel,” he says.

 

The angel is silent and Dean expects that he’s back there brooding, but he’s surprised when he hears a very quiet, “Castiel.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“My name is Castiel.”

 

Dean smiles.

 

“Well then. It’s nice to meet you, Castiel.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel isn’t quite sure what to think about these two. They seem friendly enough, but he knows that’s not grounds for trusting them. He won’t make that mistake again and despite the fact that the Winchesters saved his brother, he doesn’t trust them as far as he can throw them - which in his current state, isn’t very far. Still, he can’t help but wonder what they’re hoping to gain from nursing him back to health. From his experience, humans are greedy creatures, always wanting something.

 

If he knew where Samandriel was, he’d ask him about Sam and Dean - if they were trustworthy or if he should be running as soon as he’s able. But unfortunately, a majority of the angels have ceased telepathic communication with each other. It’s a precaution, in case one of them is captured and tortured for more information on an another angel’s whereabouts. Castiel wishes that his grace was whole again, so he didn’t have to place himself into the care of two strangers he only knows about from what he’d heard in his prison.

 

“You alright back there, angel?”

 

Dean is looking at him over the back of the front seat. Castiel snaps that he’s far from alright - that there isn’t an inch of him that doesn’t have some sort of ache or pain. The human’s expression is a cross between anger at the biting words and sympathy for the condition Castiel is in.

 

“Don’t give me that look,” he grumbles. “I don’t want your pity, nor do I need it.”

 

“I wasn’t -” Dean cuts himself off with a sigh and turns to face the road again. Sam leans over to whisper to him and Castiel’s heightened senses pick up every word.

 

“Maybe you should leave him be for now.”

 

“He’s hurt, Sam. I’m just trying to help.”

 

“I know, but he might not realize that yet. Right now, I doubt Castiel trusts us at all.”

 

Dean sighs again and Sam leans back, eyes on the map spread open across his long legs. Castiel glances over his shoulder, trying to determine where they are. He’s been running and hiding for so long that he isn’t even sure anymore.

 

“Where are we?” he asks.

 

“A few hours outside Lebanon,” Sam says, pointing to their position on the map. “We’ve got a home base of sorts. That’s where we’re headed.”

 

Castiel nods and sits back in his seat, his wings cramped in the uncomfortably small space. He isn’t sure he can handle being stuck in this metal contraption for another four hours. Already, the confined space is reminding him of his cage back at the facility where he was kept. At least when he was hiding out in the cave, he could go outside when he pleased. But here, the most he can do is roll down a window and hope the claustrophobia doesn’t drive him mad.

 

The car rumbles down the freeway towards Kansas and Castiel can’t help looking out the window up at the sky. There’s not a cloud to be seen and the sun is harsh on his eyes, but it’s the most he’s seen of it in a while. His wings twitch helplessly behind him, longing to be in the air again. He misses the breeze on his face, the airy weightlessness that comes with flying.

 

“How much longer?” he asks.

 

“Uh, maybe two hours?” Sam replies.

 

“Something wrong?” Dean looks at him in the rearview mirror, eyes filled with concern.

 

“I dislike being confined inside this heap of scrap,” Castiel mutters.

 

“Hey!” Dean snaps, indignant. “Don’t call my baby a heap of scrap or you can get out and walk.” The hunter pats the steering wheel almost soothingly, saying, “He didn’t mean it, baby.”

 

“Is that a human thing to do?” Castiel inquires, cocking his head to the side, inspecting Dean with curious eyes. “Referring to your vehicles as infants?”

 

Dean rolls his eyes and Sam lets out a chuckle, nodding eventually. “Yeah,” he says, “it’s just a human thing.”

 

Castiel stares at the both of them for a while before he sighs.

 

“Your kind is strange,” he says, more to himself than to them. Dean mutters something about Castiel being the strange one and the angel ignores his quiet ramblings in favor of gazing out the window again.

 

Two hours ticks by agonizingly slow. Castiel spends most of it with his eyes closed, trying to ignore the paranoia creeping up on him. It’s been so long since he’s met another human that didn’t wish to hurt him and he’s having a hard time believing that Sam and Dean are truly as good as they say they are. He can’t help but wonder if they will try to sell him after he’s been healed. He’s certain that Metatron would pay anything to get him back - especially if he’s in better condition than when he escaped - and he shudders at the thought of being chained again, of having his grace drained away from him piece by piece until he’s as weak as a newborn angel.

 

Suddenly, he can’t be trapped in here for a second longer.

 

“Stop the car,” he demands.

 

“What?” Dean says, glancing at him.

 

“You heard me,” Castiel snaps. “I said pull over.”

 

Sam and Dean exchange worried looks but they slow to a stop on the side of the road. Castiel unfolds himself from the back of the car, his wings bumping against the frame as he stands. He starts walking, away from the car and into the trees providing shade from the bright sun. He inhales the earthy scent, letting it calm him. His wings stretch to the sides and even though he can’t fly just yet, it feels nice to no longer be restricted by the car’s interior.

 

“Castiel? Are you okay?”

 

He turns at the sound of Sam’s voice. The two brothers are standing behind him and Castiel instinctively puffs his wings up, arching them higher in warning before he forces himself to calm down.

 

“I just needed to stretch my wings,” he explains.

 

“We’re not that far from our place. You couldn’t have waited like, half an hour? ” Dean says.

 

“No,” he replies simply. He turns away from them again and closes his eyes. He can hear the buzzing of insects, the cry of cicadas hidden in the trees and birds singing as they build nests. He’s always appreciated the world, ever since Father created it, but it wasn’t until he thought he’d never experience its wonder again that he truly started to cherish it.

 

“I thought the last thing I would ever see would be the inside of my cage,” Castiel mutters. He opens his eyes and for a second, he wonders if this is all a dream. If he’ll wake up in a moment with shackles on his wrists and ankles.

 

He starts when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. He turns to see Dean standing behind him, a gentleness about him that contrasts the brash annoying demeanor Castiel has associated him with.

 

“You’re safe now,” Dean reminds him softly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

 

His chest twinges at those words and the first smile in years creeps onto his face.

 

“Thank you, Dean,” he whispers. Dean’s words are an empty promise. Castiel knows all too well that if someone wants to hurt him, then nothing can stop them. But the sentiment behind it makes him almost believe it to be true.

 

Dean takes his hand and squeezes it gently.

 

“You gonna be okay for a little while? It’s not much further, I promise,” Dean says.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Castiel replies, allowing the hunter to tug him back towards the car. Dean even lets him sit in front this time, Sam relocating to the back for the short duration of the trip. Castiel fiddles with the dial that controls the radio and Dean stops him on a classic rock station. He doesn’t recognize the singer, but Dean seems to enjoy it. He sings along quietly, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Castiel feels something warm in his chest at the sight and after a while, he catches on to the song and hums along to the tune, tapping his fingers against his knee.

 

“You’ll like it here, Castiel. Promise,” Dean says as they pull onto a dirt road. Castiel wonders if that will be true. He can’t help notice how secluded this supposed safe house is and places like this never bode well for creatures like him. He brings a hand to the cloth that covers very little of his body, feeling cold metal against his fingers. His angel blade is tucked into what remains of his coat and despite being so weak, he’s still strong enough to fend off a pair of humans if he has to.

 

“It’s one of the Men of Letters’ bunkers, if that means anything to you,” Sam adds. Castiel just nods. He’s heard of the organization. However from what he understands, they were more researchers rather than hunters. He wonders how Sam and Dean are related to them.

 

“You’ll be fine. This place ain’t half bad. The beds even have memory foam,” Dean says, reaching over to pat his shoulder.

 

Castiel blinks owlishly, not comprehending what that’s supposed to mean or if it’s meant to make him feel better. From the way Dean grins when he says it, he guesses that’s the case.

 

It’s definitely not what he expected, to say the least. Despite the whirring machinery in the main room and the windowless concrete walls, he can sense a warmth about the place that speaks of home. The ease with which the brothers move around the complex further prove that they’re very comfortable here. Dean takes him through the library and into the hallways where he discovers that the place has a kitchen, a shower room, and even a sick bay. He’s never known many hunters to settle down in one place, but he definitely can see what would have made the Winchesters pick this place to make their home.

 

“There’s a bunch of bedrooms. Take your pick of one,” Dean tells him. “This one’s mine and Sam’s is at the end of the hall. If you need either of us, don’t hesitate to come find us, okay?”

 

Castiel nods and Dean follows him as he peeks into each of the bedrooms. Most of them are empty except for the bed, a dresser, and a desk with a chair. He ends up choosing one at the far end of the hall, away from Sam and Dean. He’s sure that Dean notices this, but if he thinks anything of it, he doesn’t mention it.

 

The bed is soft and nothing like he’s used to. The mattress sinks under his weight and he lets out a sigh, fingers curling in the blankets almost reverently. Dean has this look on his face, an odd sort of smile that Castiel can’t decipher, but it makes his chest feel warm. It disappears after a moment when the hunter clears his throat and glances away from him, instead walking over to the dresser.

 

“When you’re feeling better, we can go out and buy you some clothes. Until then, you can borrow some of mine,” Dean says, though the tone of his voice makes it sound like a question. Castiel knows that he’s in no state to be going _shopping_ of all things, so he just nods.

 

“Alright then,” Dean says, “I’ve got some old clothes I don’t wear anymore. I’ll go grab them. Did you...uh, did you want to take a shower or...?”

 

Castiel looks down at himself, only just remembering exactly how filthy he is. Living in a cave for the better part of six months hasn’t exactly done wonders for his cleanliness. He’s covered in dirt and dried blood and when he gets up, the indent in the memory foam mattress is almost black.

 

“That would be nice,” he admits. Dean chuckles and he leads him to the shower room again before telling him that he’ll leave the clothes outside the door. Castiel thanks him and he goes inside. The showers are separated by large stalls, each with a curtain hanging in front of them and there are sinks lined up on the opposite wall. Castiel stands in front of one of the mirrors and he doesn’t recognize the emaciated creature staring back at him. There are bags under his eyes and he understands now where humans get the phrase ‘skin and bones’ from because that’s all he looks like right now. His wings are a disgusting mess and even though they’re black, he can still see how dirty they are. Castiel sighs and turns away from his reflection. He steps into the stall across from him, twisting the knob until water pours out in a steady stream.

 

Castiel stares down at his feet, watching as the water swirls around the drain in whorls of gray and pink. The water is pleasantly hot and he can’t even remember the last time he had a proper shower. He isn’t sure how long he spends under the spray after he finishes cleaning himself, but the water eventually turns cold and he shuts it off. His wings are weighed down with all the water and he steps out of the shower stall so he can dry them. The room is large enough for him to extend his wings to their full length and he flaps them a few times. Droplets go flying everywhere and he feels lighter now that his feathers have dried. He towels off the rest of his body and then wraps it around his waist long enough to go to the door and reach outside for the clothes Dean has left as promised. Castiel dresses and when he looks in the mirror again, he looks a little less haggard. His reflection’s lips lift in a small smile and he rubs the soft fabric of Dean’s faded shirt between his fingers. He still hasn’t forgotten that Sam and Dean could turn on him at any moment, but for the moment, he’s hopeful that they won’t. Given enough time, he thinks that he could learn to like it here.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing related to the fic, but does anyone know how to make it so that the notes for the first chapter appear only at the end of the first chapter? Last time I posted a multi-chapter thing, I put end notes for the first chapter, but when I put up the last chapter of the thing, the notes that were for the first chapter showed up at the end of fic as well as in the first chapter. IDK if I did something wrong or what.


	3. Chapter 3

Something about seeing Castiel in his clothes makes Dean feel weird. But in a good way, you know? The angel almost looks like he belongs here and even though Dean knows that he’s still just skin and bones underneath those clothes, he looks a lot better than he did when they found him. Dean leads him to the kitchen and rummages around in the fridge for something to eat. There are leftovers that are starting to look more like a science experiment than food and Dean makes a face before he tosses them in the garbage. They haven’t made a supply run in a while, so the only things in the refrigerator are a carton of orange juice, half of the homemade pie Dean made a few days ago, some eggs, and a gallon of milk. Dean figures there’s no harm in breakfast for dinner and grabs some of the eggs. He’s pretty sure there’s enough pancake mix left in the cupboard and they somehow have a bottle of maple syrup that hasn’t been opened yet. Castiel watches him curiously as he sets a few pans on the stove to heat up.

 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

 

“Making you dinner,” Dean replies, mixing the pancake batter in a bowl. He pauses for a second. “Angels eat human food, don’t they?”

 

“We don’t need to eat to survive. However that doesn’t mean we don’t indulge ourselves every once in awhile.”

 

“Good. Besides, you need something in you anyway. I’d have made you a burger - get some meat on those bones - but we ran out of ground beef last week and I haven’t had time to run to the store,” he says. Dean holds a hand over the pan, figuring that it’s hot enough now and he pours out the pancake mix into circles. He whisks some eggs and they sizzle when they hit the other pan. Dean doesn’t look up, but he can still hear footsteps as Sam finds his way to the kitchen.

 

“Hungry, Sam?” he asks.

 

“Starving,” Sam replies. Dean grins and he can hear him grabbing plates and silverware. Once everything is done cooking, he heaps pancakes and eggs onto everyone’s plates and they sit down at the table. Sam and Dean dig in almost immediately, but Castiel eyes his dinner like it might attack him. The older hunter can’t help but laugh around a forkful of scrambled eggs and he gestures with his free hand.

 

“They’re not gonna hurt you, Cas. I mean, they might be a little hot, but if you just blow on them you’ll be fine,” he says. Although, he’s not sure how much of it the angel understands since he was talking with his mouth full. Sam rolls his eyes at Dean’s horrid table manners, but he’s smiling nonetheless.

 

“I just...” the angel begins, picking up his fork hesitantly and poking at his eggs. “Nobody’s ever made dinner for me.”

 

They’re quiet for a moment until Dean breaks the silence with a nervous chuckle.

 

“Thank God we’re here then,” he says.

 

Castiel stares at him for a while but eventually he just nods and goes back to trying to intimidate his food off the plate. Dean watches as he takes a tentative bite and he can’t stop the swell of pride from rising up when he sees how the angel’s face lights up at the taste. In no time at all, Castiel has devoured his meal and maybe even proven that he has worse manners than Dean, much to Sam’s slightly horrified amusement.

 

“Is there more?” Castiel asks. Dean laughs and he pushes his plate across the table.

 

“I’m probably not gonna finish these,” he says, even though that’s a total lie. Sam eyes him like he’s lost his mind and Dean shrugs. Castiel smiles and Dean’s stomach does something funny that has nothing to do with the food he’s just eaten.

 

“Thank you, Dean,” he says. He takes the newly opened bottle of syrup sitting in the middle of the table and even though there’s only like, two pancakes left on his plate, he drowns them in an alarming amount of the stuff. Dean raises an eyebrow but he doesn’t say anything.

 

It’s later when Dean is washing the dishes that the angel says, “You called me Cas, earlier.”

 

The hunter shrugs and rinses off a plate. “Yeah,” he says, “that okay?”

 

When he gets nothing but silence in return, he figures Castiel must have left the room, but then the angel is standing right next to him, crowding into his personal space. Dean jerks in surprise at his sudden appearance, almost dropping the plate into the sink before grabbing it at the last second.

 

“Jeez, man! Don’t do that!” he snaps, but there’s no real bite to his words.

 

“I don’t mind if you call me Cas,” he admits, completely ignoring the fact that he almost gave Dean a heart attack.

 

“Okay, cool. Now uh, can you give me some personal space?”

 

“Oh,” Cas says, like he didn’t notice how uncomfortably close he is. He takes a step back. “Apologies.”

 

“It’s fine. Just...you know...give a guy some warning, would you? You got a bell or something?”

 

Cas frowns at him and his brow scrunches up in confusion.

 

“No. Why would I?”

 

Dean chuckles to himself and shakes his head.

 

“Never mind, Cas. You feeling okay now that you got some food in you?”

 

“Yes, I’m much better now. Thank you again, Dean. That was...kind of you.”

 

Cas says it like he’s not quite sure and Dean knows that it’s probably because the angel doesn’t trust them completely. Not yet. And really, he can’t blame the guy. Years of imprisonment will do that to a person. Dean just nods and he finishes cleaning up before he wanders out to the library. Cas is following him and Dean notes the way he peruses the selection of books, picking one out at random and flipping through it.

 

“These people...the Men of Letters...are you one of them?” he asks, closing the book after a while, seemingly satisfied and intrigued by its contents.

 

“Yeah,” Dean answers. “We’re legacies, whatever that means. Our grandfather was one. Dad almost was, but he ended up becoming a hunter instead. Raised us into the life.”

 

“Do you mind my asking how that came to be?”

 

Dean presses his lips together for a second and then breathes out a sigh. He doesn’t really tell people about their past unless he has to, but he doesn’t see any harm in telling Cas either. If anything, being truthful with him will help the angel trust them more.

 

“Our mom died when I was four. Demon killed her, so our dad became a hunter to get revenge. And everything’s kind of just gone down hill from there,” he says roughly. He comes across sounding more gruff and angry than he means to, but Cas luckily doesn’t seem fazed by it. He just nods and after a second, he looks at the floor.

 

“I apologize,” he says. “That is unfortunate.”

 

“Yeah. But hey, we’ve saved a lot of people. And we met you, so I guess it’s not all bad,” Dean replies, trying to lighten the mood again with a smile. Cas huffs out a small breath that Dean thinks is meant to be a laugh and the angel shakes his head.

 

“I’m not exactly good company, Dean,” he says.

 

“I doubt that, buddy,” Dean says, patting the angel on the shoulder. He feels Cas tense for a second and he starts to draw away. Cas might look less like death warmed over, but he’s probably still pretty hurt. Dean gives him an apologetic look but Cas just smiles.

 

“I’m fine,” he says. And this time, he actually sounds like he might mean it.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel’s first night in the bunker is a restless one. Dean had recommended he sleep, and while he technically doesn’t need to, it'll help restore his grace. But he spends the better part of the night tossing and turning in bed, unable to calm his mind enough to sleep. The bunker is dark, Sam and Dean having turned the lights off when they went to bed, and it’s much too quiet for Castiel’s liking.

 

He sighs and turns onto his stomach, his wings fanning out behind him as he shoves his arms underneath his pillow. The red numbers on the digital clock in the room glare back at him, the number 4:08 seeming to taunt him. He shuts his eyes and tries to meditate instead. It had always helped him dull the pain back when he’d been imprisoned. It takes a while, but eventually his mind goes quiet and he falls into a fitful slumber.

 

_Castiel’s first thought upon waking is that he shouldn’t have trusted those people. He’d just been trying to help, but in this day and age, people’s greed outweighs any fear they might have of angels. One moment, he’d been kneeling to help a young man with what appeared to be a severe stomach wound. The next second, a syringe was being stabbed into the back of his neck and the world suddenly went fuzzy and dark._

_The room he’s in now is cold, and that alone is concerning. He’s an angel; the temperature shouldn’t affect him, yet he’s shivering and his body is covered in goosebumps. He tries to sit up and finds that he can’t. His limbs are heavy, like his bones are made of lead and no matter how he strains, he can barely move an inch. He blinks a few times to clear his head and though his vision remains blurred, he can at least hear voices in the room now._

_“Where am I?” he tries to ask. All that comes out of his mouth is a pathetic groan._

_There’s movement in the corner of his eye and he looks over to see a woman standing next to him. Castiel can’t see her face clearly, but she has red hair tied back in a bun and is wearing a gray suit. There’s a clipboard in her hands and she says something to another person across from her. Castiel tries to focus on her words and slowly, bits and pieces make it through the fogginess in his head._

_“Subject 401. Species: angel,” she says. Castiel blinks as a light is shined into his eyes. It shuts off after a moment and he hears scribbling. “Pupil response normal.”_

_“What’s going on? Who are you?” Castiel says. The words come out garbled and they don’t sound anything like he meant them to in his head._

_“Try not to talk,” another voice says. This one is male and Castiel turns his gaze from the red-haired woman to the other person. He’s shorter, with a mess of dark gray curls atop his head. The man scratches absently at his beard and then bends down closer to Castiel._

_“The drug we gave you is meant specifically for angels. You won’t be moving or talking coherently any time soon,” the man helpfully informs him. Castiel blinks up at him in response, since that’s as much as he can do at the moment. The woman disappears from his line of sight for a moment and he gasps when he feels manicured nails running along the edges of his wings. She pokes and prods and Castiel is helpless to do anything but lie there and growl in warning at her._

_“Wings appear to be healthy,” she says when he can see her again. “We should be able to take a few samples without issue.”_

_Samples of what? Castiel wants to ask. He glares up at them, wishing that this infernal drug wasn’t affecting his grace as well as his body. The man nods and then he walks away while the woman stands beside Castiel, scribbling more notes onto her clipboard._

_“Should we start now?” the woman asks._

_There’s a pause as the man fiddles with something out of Castiel’s view._

_“Later. There are others that need to be catalogued. Let’s move this one downstairs for now.”_

_Castiel hears footsteps and then hears the man speak again._

_“This might hurt a little. Try not to scream. It’ll disturb the others.”_

_Castiel doesn't have time to wonder what he's talking about and in the next moment he feels something white hot searing his skin._

 

Castiel gasps awake, limbs flailing as he tumbles out of the nightmare and into reality. He can feel his heart pounding and his side feels like it’s on fire, even though the wound healed and scarred over years ago. It takes a moment to get his bearings and he pushes himself up into a sitting position. It’s only when he feels a soft mattress instead of cold steel beneath him that he remembers where he is.

 

He takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down and he squeezes his eyes shut, repeating the words _I’m safe, I’m okay_ over and over in his head like a mantra. His wings are tucked close to him - attempting to comfort him and at the same time preventing him from seeing the door open a minute or so later. He starts violently when a hand grabs at his left wing and he isn’t thinking when he whirls around and slams the person into the far wall.

 

Before he even realizes it, his blade is out and pressed against Dean’s throat.

 

“You know, I’m starting to think you have a thing for trying to cut my neck open,” Dean quips, but Castiel can see that he’s startled.

 

“I...” he stammers, blinking a few times as his mind clears. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

 

“It’s okay. I probably would’ve done the same to be honest,” the hunter says. Castiel backs away and slides the knife back under the pillow where he’d been keeping it. He looks over at Dean, who rubs his throat for a moment before he comes over to Castiel’s side. He’s hesitant, and the angel knows that he has reason to be. After all, this is the second time he’s almost killed the man.

 

“I heard you scream. You okay?” Dean asks.

 

Castiel glances down at where his old brand is hidden beneath Dean’s borrowed shirt and sighs.

 

“It’s nothing. Just a nightmare,” he replies. He climbs back on the bed and turns onto his stomach again. He slides his hands under the pillow so Dean can’t see them shaking and he wraps one around the hilt of his blade, always having felt safer with a weapon in reach. When he realizes that Dean is still standing on the other side of the room, he mumbles into the pillow, “You can leave now. I’m going back to sleep.”

 

“Are you sure? I can stay, if you need me to. Sam had bad dreams a lot when he was younger. It’s not a big deal,” Dean offers.

 

“I appreciate it, Dean. But I’ll be alright on my own,” he says, despite how nice company sounds right about now. He hates showing weakness, especially in front of strangers, let alone a human.

 

“Okay, well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me,” Dean says. He starts to walk towards the door, pausing briefly with a hand on the doorknob. Castiel lifts his head again, glancing over curiously when he doesn’t hear Dean leave. “You know,” the hunter adds, “if you had said yes, I wouldn’t have thought any less of you.”

 

Castiel doesn’t know how to respond to that, but he’s certain that’s Dean’s way of reassuring him that he’s not as pathetic as he feels at the moment. It doesn’t exactly lift his spirits, but he’s grateful for the gesture of kindness. Dean nods and with a quiet, “Good night, Cas,” he pulls the door open and heads out, a soft click sounding as the door shuts again.

 

He stares at the door for a long second before he smiles to himself.

  
“Thank you, Dean,” he murmurs to the empty room.  He lays his head on the pillow again and when he sleeps, this time he dreams of kind green eyes and a warm smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness of this. School and work have been hectic lately and I haven't had time to actually relax for a while. And to top it all off, I'm just now getting over a cold. Anyway, hopefully I'll post the next chapter later today or this weekend.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean isn’t sure if his words last night somehow helped the angel get a better night’s sleep, but when Cas emerges from his room the next morning and into the library, he actually looks well rested. He’s wearing another one of Dean’s old shirts and while he doesn’t really mind - even secretly enjoys it a little, not that he’ll ever admit that - he starts to think that maybe they could take him to get some stuff of his own. After all, whether or not Cas is staying with them for another week or a few days, Dean knows they can’t send him off into the world with nothing.

 

“Hey Sam, I gotta make a supply run. You coming?” he says. They’re running low on food again since they’ve been home for almost a week now. With no hunts to take them away from the bunker, and the fact that Cas eats almost everything Dean cooks, the three of them have successfully depleted the majority of the stock in the pantry.

 

“Sure,” Sam says. He notes his place in the heavy tome he’s reading and Dean swears he sees dust puff up when Sam shuts it. Just before his brother returns it to the shelf, he catches a glimpse of the illustration on the front and the strange lettering he’s learned over the years to be Enochian. Sam is reading about angels and Dean’s suddenly curious to know if he’s learned anything that could be of help to Cas. Unfortunately, now doesn’t seem like the time to bring it up. Sam is shoving his feet into his giant shoes and tying them while Cas stands there looking oddly out of place.

 

“You wanna come with?” Dean offers. “You can buy some clothes and stuff.”

 

“Stuff,” Cas repeats. “What kind of stuff?”

 

Dean shrugs and says, “I don’t know. Stuff to put in your room?”

 

He freezes and out of the corner of his eye, he can see that Sam has paused too. He’s realized what he said a second too late and he glances at the angel to gauge his reaction. Buying things like clothing is one thing. Clothes can be packed up and taken with you when you head out. But buying things to put in a room suggests permanence. Not that Dean wouldn’t love for the angel to stay with them indefinitely, but he suspects that Cas might not want to be cooped up in what’s basically a giant underground birdcage for that long. Especially after everything he’s been through.

 

“Dean, if I may ask...how long do you plan on me staying here?” Cas says, asking the one question that’s likely on all of their minds. Dean knew that he’d have to make a decision the moment they found Cas, but he thought he’d have a little more time.

 

“However long you feel comfortable,” he says, feeling that it’s the safest answer to go with at the moment. Sam nods slightly in his peripheral and finishes tying his shoes before standing to his full moose height and walking over to them.

 

“I see,” Cas replies, expression contemplative. “I think...I would like a bookshelf. I’ve been told by many other angels that I should read more. And maybe some plants. I had a garden in Heaven.”

 

Dean realizes that the sensation he’s currently feeling is relief. He’s glad that Cas is staying for a while and though he forces his features to remain casual, he’s thrilled at the prospect of the angel staying in their home.

 

“Okay, we can do that,” Dean says. When Cas smiles, Dean finds it hard not to stare. Cas doesn’t smile very often around them and Dean completely understands why, but it’s nice to see regardless. He can’t help thinking that Cas looks breathtaking when he smiles and often times, he has to push those thoughts away, shove them into a box appropriately labeled _Thoughts I Probably Shouldn’t Be Having About An Angel Of The Lord._

With that matter settled and with Dean definitely not staring fondly at Cas, they head to the Impala and make for the nearest supermarket. Cas doesn’t seem as uncomfortable as he had the first time they all crowded into the car, though that might have to do with the fact that Dean has rolled down all the windows to let the breeze in. Cas’ messy hair flies in the wind and even though he’s not doing something as insane as letting his wings jut out of the windows, the angel still has them spread slightly to catch the wind as they rumble down the road. Dean figures it must feel like flying and while he’s not one for planes, he doesn’t mind it so much if he’s driving his baby. There’s nothing better than driving down a long stretch of road with the windows down, the wind roaring in his ears as the scenery zips by.

 

Dean is almost disappointed when they pull into the parking lot. Cas had looked thrilled to finally feel the breeze on his wings and even if they’re not healed enough to fly yet, Dean knows that the angel longs for it more than anything. When they get out of the car, Dean pats Cas on the shoulder and tells him not to worry.

 

“They’ll get better soon, Cas. Promise,” he says, giving the angel what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

 

Cas simply nods and he tucks his wings close to his back as they enter the store. Dean grabs a cart and pushes it along while Sam scrolls down the list he’d made on his phone. It’s a habit the younger brother had taken up not too long ago, since either of them always forgot one thing or another when they left. The store isn’t very far out from the bunker, but it’s long enough of a drive that going back for that bag of organic baby carrots - Dean always rolls his eyes when it comes to Sam’s healthy dieting - is less than desirable.

 

He can’t help but notice how people keep staring at Cas. It’s more than a little annoying, especially since the angel is obviously more than uncomfortable here. He keeps close to Sam and Dean and any time anyone stares for too long, Cas glares at them until they look away. Dean supposes he can’t be too harsh though. The rest of the world has only just caught up with what hunters have known for years. It will definitely take some getting used to, at least for them.

 

“Mommy! That man has wings! Is he an angel?” a little girl says as they pass by. She tugs at her mother’s pant leg and the woman smiles down at her.

 

“Yes, sweetheart, he is.”

 

The little girl looks amazed and Dean thinks that she can’t be more than three or four. She leaves her mother’s side for a second and toddles over to Cas, smiling up at him. The angel looks surprised for a second but he doesn’t let that faze him. Dean watches as he kneels down and takes the little girl’s hand in his larger one, shaking her hand gently.

 

“Hello, little one. What’s your name?” he asks.

 

“I’m Anna!” she says.

 

Castiel smiles and Dean feels his heart skip a beat at the sight.

 

“Anna. That’s a very pretty name. I have a sister named Anna,” he says.

 

“Really?!” Anna exclaims. Cas nods and Anna bounces on her feet happily. The angel lets out a laugh at the enthusiastic child and doesn’t seem to notice that her mother has approached until she’s placing a hand on Anna’s shoulder, guiding her away.

 

“Anna, sweetie, let’s not bother them,” Anna’s mother says, smiling apologetically at Cas. Cas stands up and his wings fan out slightly, less rigid as he starts to relax more.

 

“It’s no problem,” he assures her. “Your daughter is very kind.”

 

“Thank you,” she says, scooping up the child into her arms and placing her into the seat of the cart. She smiles at Cas one last time before she turns to Anna and starts to push the cart away. The child waves at him and Cas gives an awkward little wave back that Dean tries not to think is adorable.

 

“Mommy, did you see the angel’s wings? They’re so pretty!” Dean hears her say as the pair reach the end of the aisle and head towards the checkout.

 

“Well, looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Dean says with a laugh, glancing back at Cas. He’s surprised to see that Cas’ blue eyes have turned misty. “Hey, you okay, Cas?”

 

“Yes, I’m fine,” Cas says, wiping at his eyes. “I just...I forgot how wonderful your kind can be.  Before, the only humans I met had reacted to me with fear or disgust. It’s just a nice change, is all.”

 

“It must be,” Sam agrees and even he looks a little affected by the exchange that just happened.

 

“Hey, uh, Cas?” Dean says. Cas hums in acknowledgement and Dean grins. “Anna’s right. You do have pretty wings.”

 

Cas blushes pink and he ducks his head, staring at the ground. The wings in question flutter almost shyly.

 

“Thank you, Dean,” he murmurs, so quietly that Dean almost doesn’t hear him.

 

Dean nudges the angel’s shoulder before he goes back to the cart again and starts towards the clothing section.

 

“What do you say we go get you some new clothes, huh?” he says.

 

It takes them a little while to pick out clothes. Stores haven’t exactly started stocking angel friendly shirts yet, so Cas can’t try anything on to see if it’ll fit right. Dean figures that they’re about the same size though, so he ends up directing Cas to shirts that look like they might fit. He spends an unreasonable amount of time  - in Sam’s opinion - holding up shirts to the angel and judging whether or not they look good. Cas picks out a few nice looking dress shirts and Dean finds a blue one that matches the angel’s eyes, not that he mentions it aloud. Minutes later, they end up with a bunch of new shirts and pants in their cart, along with a pair of shoes that actually fit him better than Dean’s old boots that he wore to run their errands. As they weave their way out of the clothing section, Cas stops at one of the racks filled with coats. He paws through a few, shoving hangers to the side until he finds one that’s his size.

 

“I had a coat like this before,” Cas says, inspecting the tan trenchcoat with narrowed eyes. When he’s satisfied with it, he raises his head and looks at Dean imploringly. “Can we buy this too?”

 

“Of course, Cas,” Dean says, unable to stop himself from smiling. He can’t refuse Cas anything, not with that look on his face.

 

Cas grins, a small thing that disappears quickly but Dean catches it before the angel carefully folds the coat and sets it in the cart. With that part of their shopping done, they move on to other parts of the store. They buy some books, Dean figuring that he can build Cas a shelf later, and the angel finds a couple of flowers he thinks would look nice in his garden.

 

They get a couple cases of beer, some milk - since the last jug that was in their fridge started to smell weird the other day - and Dean is thinking about making burgers sometime soon, so he grabs a package of ground beef while they’re in the meat section. They’re done within the hour and as they head to the checkout, they pass by the bakery. Dean sees a few pies on the display shelves and contemplates buying one, because he’s had a craving as of late. Sam just rolls his eyes and they bicker about healthy food choices until Cas pipes in.

 

“I don’t see the big deal. Pie isn’t that special.”

 

Dean gapes and Sam has this look on this face that almost screams _you shouldn’t have said that_.

 

“Wait. Cas, have you ever had pie?” he asks.

 

Cas shakes his head..

 

“I never had the occasion. Angels don’t normally eat,” he says.

 

“That’s no excuse!” Dean exclaims vehemently. He eyes the pie in the bakery one last time and nods to himself. “Alright. Rule one if you’re staying with us Cas. You need to try pie. Doesn’t matter what kind, but you haven’t lived until you’ve had it.”

 

“Dean, that’s stupid,” Cas says with an exasperated expression on his face. “Pie is not that important.”

 

Dean just shakes his head, tutting playfully at him. Angel or not, Cas can’t just say stuff like that and not expect consequences. He leaves Sam to stand with their things while he drags Cas back down the aisles. If he’s doing this, he’s doing it right. None of that pre-made stuff they sell in plastic containers. No, he’s going to make a homemade pie, just so Cas can understand why it _is_ that important.

 

“Your brother is insane,” Cas remarks when they return to Sam, who is occupied playing Candy Crush on his phone.

 

“Tell me something I don’t know, Cas,” Sam mumbles, cursing to himself when he runs out of moves. Dean ignores both of them and pushes the cart full of clothes and food towards the checkout. After they pile all the bags into the trunk and everyone is seated inside, Dean starts the car. The ride back is filled with chatter and Dean bickers and banters with the other two. It takes no time at all until they’re arriving home and he’s still arguing that Batman would totally win in a fight against Superman when they bring all the bags inside.

 

“I’m just saying, Dean. Superman actually has superpowers. Batman’s just a rich dude in a costume,” Sam says.

 

“How dare you!” Dean exclaims, setting the bag containing the clothes down with an indignant look on his face. He turns to Cas and shakes his head. “Can you believe this guy?” he asks, jabbing his thumb towards his brother.

 

Cas shrugs and says, “I have no idea what either of you are talking about.”

 

Dean reminds himself to drag Cas to his room for a movie marathon later and then starts taking some of the clothes out of the bag and shoving them into Cas’ arms.

 

“I can’t believe the things I put up with around here,” he mutters. Sam cackles and says something about him sounding like an old lady, to which Dean flips him the bird and tells him to screw off. Sam keeps laughing even as he heads to the kitchen to put the food away and Dean rolls his eyes.

 

“Should I put these away now?” Cas asks, distracting Dean from his bickering with Sam. He looks over to see that he’s kind of just piled all of the new clothes into his friend’s arms without even thinking. Cas peeks out at him over the stack of clothing curiously.

 

“Uh, sure,” Dean replies. “You wanna try them on first though?”

 

Cas nods and Dean follows him to his room where he has to push the door open for him. The angel dumps his clothes onto the bed unceremoniously and then begins rifling through them for something he likes. He pulls out one of the dress shirts - the one Dean picked out for him - and holds it up to his chest before nodding to himself. Dean watches as the angel draws the knife out that he keeps under his pillow and starts to cut slits into the back of the shirt for his wings.

 

Once it’s done, Cas shrugs the shirt he’s wearing off his shoulders and folds his wings until the article of clothing falls off and onto the floor. As he bends down to pick it up and toss it in the direction of the laundry hamper, Dean catches a glimpse of the raised pink lines that crisscross along Cas’ chest and back. His stomach churns at the sight and he’s not fast enough to look away when Cas straightens up and catches him at it.

 

“It’s rude to stare, Dean,” Cas says a little testily, bringing his wings closer to himself.

 

“Sorry,” Dean mumbles, looking away and staring at a spot on the wall while Cas grabs the other shirt. He slides his wings through the cuts he’d created and then sticks his arms into the sleeves, shrugging the shirt on and starting to button it. Just before he does it though, Dean catches a glimpse of something peeking out above the waistband of his pants. It looks like another scar, but it’s oddly shaped and he can’t really tell what it is. It almost looks like the outline of a number.

 

“What happened there?” Dean asks.

 

“What?” Cas says, looking over and then down at himself when Dean gestures to the mark. The angel stills for a moment and he gets this haunted look on his face that makes Dean regret even bringing it up. “Oh. That. I was...it’s a - a brand. It’s just a scar now, but...”

 

“Cas, I’m sorry. I didn’t think-” he starts. He mentally kicks himself for not keeping his big mouth shut.

 

“No, you didn’t,” Cas snaps, suddenly angry. “I’ve been trying my hardest to forget that place. To forget what happened to me. I don’t turn the lights on in the morning when I dress because I can’t stand to see myself. And you just-”

 

“Cas, I said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” Dean says. He wants to hug Cas and tell him everything will be alright, but he’s half afraid that if he does that the angel will just lash out at him. Dean retreats to the door instead, figuring Cas needs his space, when he hears a sigh behind him. He pauses and chances a look back to where Cas is standing at the end of the bed, looking guilty.

 

“It’s not...it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you like that,” Cas mutters. His wings droop like they do when he’s upset and Dean longs to calm him with a touch. Instead, he just stands awkwardly by the door, not sure if he should be leaving or not.

 

“Thank you, for taking me out today,” Cas says after a tense silence, surprising Dean. The last thing he expected after this was a thank you. “You bought me things I wanted, and I return the favor with hostility. I’m sorry.”

 

“Hey, don’t apologize. I should have kept my big mouth shut. You’re well within your rights to be angry with me,” Dean says. Cas is quiet and just looks down at the pile of new clothes. He lets out a tired sigh and closes his eyes.

 

“If you hadn’t found me that day,” he says eventually, hands clutching the shirt he just changed out of in his hands, “I...I think I would’ve killed myself.”

 

Dean swallows hard and he takes a hesitant step towards Cas.

 

“I was alone and scared and I didn’t think that I’d ever find peace again. I didn’t see the point in...in staying alive anymore.”

 

He’s just inches away from Cas now and this time, when he places a hand on the angel’s shoulder, Cas leans into it with a shaky sigh.

 

“Thank you, Dean. For finding me and saving me,” he whispers.

  
Dean says nothing and wraps his arms around the quivering angel. He presses kisses into his hair and runs his fingers through newly growing feathers. They stay in a quiet embrace for a while, until Cas stops shaking and his wings curl forward to wrap around Dean. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the awesome comments guys! I'm glad you guys are liking it so far and when I get time, I'm going to keep drafting up new chapters and stuff. This is kind of exciting cause this is one of the first multi-chapter things I've written where I actually have sort of an idea of where I want it to go! Don't know how long it will be, but I imagine it's probably going to be lengthier than my other things.
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys liked this chapter! :) (If there's any mistakes or anything, forgive me. I'm getting ready to go to work so I'm trying to gloss over this and edit it quicker than I normally do)


	6. Chapter 6

After the events of yesterday, Cas feels a little more at ease in the Winchester’s home. Before, he’d always been wary, on guard in case either brother tried anything funny. But now, he knows that they truly mean him no harm, and better - they even want him to stay here. He hasn’t had a place to call home since Heaven, and even then, it was nowhere near as lively as it is in the bunker. Each morning is filled with the smell of coffee - and sometimes breakfast cooking on the stove - and Sam and Dean puttering about in the kitchen as they wake up. Cas doesn’t really need to keep eating now that he’s regaining his grace, but it’s a nice indulgence that he doesn’t mind allowing himself. Especially not if it puts that happy, almost prideful expression on Dean’s face. Besides, Dean is a very excellent cook and Cas would be a fool to pass up a homemade breakfast.

 

As the days pass, Cas’ wings start healing - new feathers growing in where old ones had been torn out. They itch and while it’s annoying, he knows it’s a good sign so he tries his best to leave them alone. It’s easier when he has his garden to distract himself. There’s an area just behind the bunker that’s the perfect spot to plant his flowers. He can spend hours out there without even thinking about it and it’s only when Dean will come out and ask if he wants food does he realize the time.

 

Cas changes rooms after around two weeks. Sam and Dean help him move his things further down the hall, closer to where the brothers’ rooms are. He ends up choosing the one across from Dean’s and he doesn’t miss the smile that the hunter gives him when he makes his decision. The sight of Dean’s pleased expression sparks something in his chest. He isn’t sure what, but it’s been happening recently. When Dean stares at him a little too long or when he’ll smile or when he hugs him tight, Cas feels this warmth flare up in his chest like a miniature sun. He’s come to realize that Dean will smile more if Cas does, so he makes it a habit to smile as much as he can when the situation calls for it. It’s not very difficult though. There are many things about Dean that make Castiel smile.

 

For instance, there’s the way Dean will sing to himself when he thinks he’s alone. Cas has stumbled upon him during the evenings when Sam is in his room watching TV and Dean is busy making dinner. He sings the same songs that play in the Impala and every so often, the hunter will tap out a beat on the countertop or mimic playing a guitar with his hands. It makes the feeling in Cas’ chest bloom like the flowers he tends to outside and he finds himself smiling even if Dean’s not paying attention to return it. Sometimes Dean will spot him and he’ll turn red and stammer something like ‘you saw nothing’ before turning back to the stove. Cas just laughs and shakes his head, staring fondly at Dean as the man busies himself cooking dinner, still quietly humming to himself.

 

Other times, Dean will drag Cas across the hallway into his room for what the hunter dubs ‘necessary education’ in which they watch movies or TV shows on Netflix. Dean says something about remembering to thank someone named Charlie for letting Sam and Dean use her account. Cas doesn’t really understand the point of a lot of the shows and movies they watch, but they make Dean laugh so he doesn’t really mind that much.

 

But unfortunately, their few weeks of lazing about and enjoying each other’s company comes to an inevitable end. Cas wakes up on a Thursday to hear Sam and Dean talking in the hallway. From their tone, he thinks they’re arguing. He sits up in bed and stretches a bit, yawning before he gets up and pads over to the door. He can hear them even without his angelic senses. They’re not exactly being quiet about it.

 

“Dean, we could use another person on this case and you know Cas is more than capable. He’s an angel, what are you so worried about?” Sam is saying.

 

“He’s not at full strength yet! What if something happens?” Dean replies. He sounds angry to be sure, but underneath that, Cas can detect a note of panic.

 

“Nothing’s going to happen. He’ll be fine,” Sam tries to assure his brother.

 

“You can’t know that for sure, Sam! What if - what if he...”

 

“What? Dies? The only thing that can kill an angel are those knives they carry and there’s no way that a nest of vampires is going to have those just lying around.”

 

“Sam, come on, man. Just...let’s do this one on our own. We can handle it.”

 

“And you think Cas can’t?”

 

“Of course I don’t think that.”

 

“Then why are you freaking out?”

 

Dean is quiet for a beat and then he says, softer this time, “You know why.”

 

This time Cas thinks he hears a teasing lilt to Sam’s voice. Smug, even.

 

“Do I? Maybe you should be so kind as to inform me..”

 

Dean scoffs and Cas can imagine him rolling his eyes as he mumbles, “Screw you, man,” and stomps away. Sam chuckles and it’s quiet in the hallway again until Cas hears footsteps approaching the door. There’s a knock and Cas waits a second or two before he opens the door, not wanting it to be so obvious he was listening. Though from the look on Sam’s face, he suspects the younger Winchester already knows.

 

“We’re leaving soon. Got a case,” Sam tells him.

 

“What is it?” Cas asks.

 

“Vamp nest. Nothing too bad, but uh, another person wouldn’t hurt anything.”

 

Cas knows that Dean probably won’t like it if he decides to tag along, but he has to. He doesn’t want to wait here without any way of helping the brothers should they need it. He’s certain that his power is returned enough to heal them, so if anything, he’s going to go in case either of them get hurt.

 

“I’ll come with you.” he says.

 

“Good. That’s good, Cas, but uh, you might want to talk to Dean. You probably heard him just now. He’s worried about you,” Sam says.

 

“He needn’t be. I’ll be fine,” Cas replies.

 

“Tell him that,” the younger brother says with a tired, yet fond expression on his face as he looks down the hall in the direction Dean went.

 

Sam moves out of the way and then disappears to his room to pack a bag. Cas finds Dean in the library, curled over the laptop as he clicks and scrolls through news articles.

 

“Hello Dean,” he says, waiting until Dean looks up before continuing. “I’ve decided to assist you on your hunt,” he informs him. Dean bites his lip for a moment and looks like he might protest but he just gives Cas a tight smile and nods.

 

“Great,” he says with a strained voice. “Just uh, be careful, okay?”

 

Dean goes back to looking at the laptop, but he doesn’t appear to be reading anything on the screen. Cas sighs and goes to sit next to Dean, his wings settling over the back of the chair as he takes his seat.

 

“Dean, I know you’re worried about me. But this isn’t dangerous, not for me. I’ll be okay,” he assures him. Dean swallows and looks down at his hands where they’re resting on the table. They clench into fists and he takes a deep breath before forcing himself to relax.

 

“I know, Cas. But after all the crap that’s happened...” Dean leaves out the ‘to you’ part, but Cas hears it all the same, “you sure you’re ready for this?”

 

“Of course. Vampires don’t scare me.”

 

_Some humans on the other hand_ , Castiel thinks, before mentally shaking himself and returning his full attention to Dean. He reaches out instinctively to comfort him and places his right hand on top of Dean’s left. Dean stares at their joined hands and Cas turns his and weaves their fingers together before squeezing gently.

 

“You’ve taken care of me since you found me, Dean. Now it’s my turn to do the same,” he says. “I have to repay you somehow. This is the least I can do.”

 

“Cas, you don’t owe us anything. The only thing I want is for you to be safe,” Dean says.

 

“And I will be. Nothing can kill an angel except their blades. And I suppose certain spells, if performed correctly, but I doubt a group of vampires will be privy to that knowledge,” he says.

 

Dean stares at him with a hesitant expression and Cas smiles reassuringly.

 

“Trust me, Dean. Everything will be okay.”

* * *

 

 

It feels strange doing this in the daylight, Cas muses as the three of them creep up on the entrance to the hideout the vampires have built on the edge of town. He knows that hunters typically prefer to work under the cover of night where their trespassing is likely to go undetected by the public, however they can’t do that with a group of vampires for obvious reasons.

 

Cas crouches down behind Sam and Dean as the older Winchester picks open the rusty looking lock on the chain holding the door shut. The creaky old barn seems like a perfect place for the vampires to set up shop and as soon as they slip through the door silently, Cas can see the logic of hiding in such a secluded place. For one, there’s nobody for miles around, meaning there’s no one to notice the awful stench.

 

There are bodies everywhere and Dean groans quietly and presses his sleeve to his nose. Sam looks a bit pale and even Cas wrinkles his nose in disgust at the sight of all the blood. It occurs to him then that these vampires aren’t even killing out of necessity. They’re doing it for sport. Otherwise, this place would be spotless - no drop of blood wasted if it could be going to feed hungry vamps, as Sam and Dean call them.

 

“Stay together and stay quiet,” Dean whispers, scanning the room for any signs of movement.

 

All of the vampires are asleep, lying on makeshift hammocks or bales of hay that have probably been lying around the barn since it was abandoned by the previous owner of the farm. Cas could just smite all of them if he wanted to, but he’s trying to conserve his energy. His grace isn’t quite at full capacity, not yet at the point where it can replenish itself almost as quickly as it can be depleted. It’s frustrating, but Cas figures that he can rely on his angelic strength if he gets in a bind.

 

Their footsteps sound too loud in the quiet room, even though they’re being as quiet as church mice and Cas is tense, wings twitching in agitation as he grips the machete Sam and Dean gave him tightly in his hand. He tries to calm down by reminding himself that he’s been through worse, that he’s fought worse things than a simple group of vampires. He was a soldier in Heaven’s army; this is nothing compared to what he’s done.

 

“There are more than we thought,” Sam whispers.

 

“Just find the kids and get out. We can always come back and gank these guys later,” Dean says.

 

It feels like it takes an eternity to search the barn. It’s not very big, but Sam is right and there are way more vampires than they’d anticipated. And the longer it takes them to find the kids they’d taken, the closer evening looms and Cas knows that once it’s dark, it won’t take long for them all to wake up.

 

When Sam and Dean’s search turns up nothing, Cas closes his eyes, listening intently. Children’s hearts beat faster than an adult’s and it doesn’t take him long to uncover the hidden cellar door in the floor, brushing aside the hay strewn over it. There’s another padlock on this one and it takes even longer for Dean to get it open. Once they do, the door creaks loudly and Cas knows they have seconds to jump down and get the two girls out safely.

 

“What’s going on?” he hears someone mumble.

 

“Crap. Cas, you go. We’ll cover you,” Dean says. Cas doesn’t bother disputing and as he hops down into the cellar, he can hear the swing of a machete and the sickening thunk as it makes contact with bone.

 

Cas doesn’t need to switch his flashlight on to see and he finds the two girls asleep on a surprisingly clean air mattress on the other side of the room. He inhales sharply when he recognizes one of them as the little girl he’d met at the grocery store a few weeks ago. Anna had been her name and he remembers that she’d thought his wings were pretty.

 

Luckily, they managed to get here before anything could happen. Both girls seem relatively unharmed and Cas breathes a sigh of relief upon discovering this. He crouches down and places a hand on Anna’s shoulder, shaking her gently.

 

“Mommy? Where are you?” she asks, obviously confused when she wakes up in almost pure darkness. Cas turns his light on then and she looks up at him. At first, he thinks she doesn’t remember him, but then she smiles.

 

“Hi Mr. Angel,” she says. Anna looks around curiously, her blonde curls bobbing around her head. “Where are we?”

 

Cas searches for a way to tell the child where they are without scaring her when he hears shouting upstairs and the sounds of fighting. There’s little chance he’ll be able to get both girls out without being jumped by at least one of the vampires. So he reaches out and takes Anna’s little hand in his.

 

“What’s going on?” she asks.

 

“Anna, I’m going to tell you what’s happening and I need you to be brave, okay?” he says. “Can you do that?”

 

The girl nods and he sighs, wishing he didn’t have to tell her this.

 

“There are some bad guys upstairs. Bad guys that want to hurt you and your friend. But I’m here to take you back to your mommy, okay?” he explains. Her eyes go wide but she nods again and Cas continues. “My friends are up there fighting the bad guys, but they need my help. I have to go up there, but I can’t take you with me. Can you be a good girl and wait here until I come back? You’ll be okay, I promise.”

 

“Okay,” she says. “Are you going to be okay?”

 

“Yes,” he assures her. “I’ll be okay. I’m going to shut the door so the bad guys can’t come down. It’ll be dark, but you’ll be safe.  Just stay down here and wait until I come back.”

 

Anna nods and he’s surprised when she hugs him.

 

“Be careful, Mr. Angel,” she says. He smiles and whispers that he will be before he stands up and walks over to the ladder leading back up to the main room.

 

From here, he can hear Sam and Dean shouting and the vampires growling as they attack. He hears Dean swear and a loud thump as a body hits the ground. Cas climbs up and is almost immediately attacked, just barely dodging out of the way in time. He rolls, wings tucked close to his body and fanning out when he springs to his feet. They create the distraction Sam needs to shove the vampire currently pinning him to the floor off to the side and bring his machete down on the creature’s neck.

 

Cas remembers to kick the door shut and it thumps as it slams closed. He stands on top of it so no one can get down there and he swings at anything that tries getting too close. At first, it seems that he has the advantage of surprise on his hands, since most of the vampires seem surprised to see an angel suddenly emerge from their basement. He uses their fear of him to keep them at bay a little longer, wings bristling as he lets out a growl whenever one of them comes near.

 

He can hear Sam and Dean behind him, still struggling to get rid of the others, but he doesn’t want to show his back to the vampires in front of him in case they decide to attack. He’s certain that the two hunters can handle themselves, until he hears a cry of pain and Sam shouting his brother’s name.

 

Cas, unable to help it, glances behind him, eyes widening when he sees Dean in the grasp of a heavily muscled vampire that manages to make even Sam look small next to him. The younger Winchester is cornered by two others, unable to rush to Dean’s aid and watches as the huge vamp rips open Dean’s neck with his fangs.

 

Dean cries out, or tries to at least, but the most that comes out is a weak gurgle. Cas feels his heart drop into his stomach and at the same time, an unbridled rage flows through him.

 

“Release him!” he demands, voice loud and booming in the tiny building.

 

The vampire hesitates for a split second at the anger in his voice, but ultimately continues to sink his teeth into Dean’s bloodied throat with an expression that challenges Castiel to make a move.

 

“Cas,” Dean croaks. “Help me.”

 

“I don’t think so,” the vampire holding him says, smirking lips covered in red. “You tried to kill my friends and steal away my dinner. Nobody’s going to help you.”

 

There’s a loud _crack_ as he breaks Dean’s arm and shoves him to the ground, heavy boot placed between the hunter’s shoulder blades. Despite his injuries, Dean is still trying to reach for his machete in an attempt to fight back. When the vampire sees this, he reaches down and grips Dean by his hair, lifting his head up and slamming it back down onto the ground. The human is still after that and Sam and Cas both shout his name.

 

“Now it’s your turn,” the vampire says, kicking Dean’s unmoving body to the side as he turns on Sam.

 

However he doesn’t get farther than two steps when the lights suddenly explode, raining down sparks on all of them. There’s thunder booming loudly, making the walls groan and the wind is rattling the windows. Castiel steps in between the vampire and Sam, eyes glowing with a blue intensity as he holds a hand out in front of him.

 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says. With an effortless shove, the vampire goes flying back, the far wall of the barn crumpling as he goes through it. The others that still have their heads attached realize the threat quick enough and make to escape but before they even have a chance, Castiel vaporizes them with his grace. He stalks to the other side of the barn and steps through the hole in the wall, hoisting the vampire up into the air with a snarl.

 

“Please, don’t, I-”

 

“Shut up,” Castiel growls. His eyes glow again and the skin beneath his palm lights up white as he forces it against the vampire’s forehead. The monster’s eyes burst into flames and he screams, but Castiel doesn’t care, even delights in it for what this creature did to his friend.

 

He drops the body to the floor once it’s burned out and he turns and goes back into the barn where Sam is kneeling with Dean’s broken body in his arms. His cheeks are wet with tears and his eyes are shining bright as he looks up at Cas.

 

“Cas, he’s...”

 

Sam can’t even get the word out and he chokes on a sob as he hold Dean closer to his chest.

 

“Let me see him,” Cas says.

 

“What?”

 

“I said, let me see him, Sam. I can bring him back.”

 

That spurs Sam into action, carefully handing Dean over to the angel. Cas knows that he probably doesn’t have a lot of grace left after using it to smite the vampire nest, but he needs Dean. He can’t let him die.

 

“Sam, get the kids. This will take me a moment,” he says. Sam blinks like he doesn’t know what he’s talking about at first, but then he nods and shuffles over to the cellar door. It creaks open and the younger hunter disappears inside as Cas places a hand on Dean’s cheek. He can still feel Dean’s soul hovering, waiting for a reaper to come and take him, but before that can happen, Cas reaches out and grabs hold. He gasps a bit, unable to believe the raw power emanating from Dean’s soul, but he only has a little time left to work so he stows his surprise and awe away for another time.

 

Reaching into the veil to take Dean’s soul back drains a lot of his energy and as soon as he’s revived the hunter, Cas feels as weak as a kitten again. But this time, he’s fine with it, especially if it means saving Dean’s life. Just as green eyes blink open and up at him, Cas’ own eyes flutter shut and he slumps to the side. He can hear four different voices, and one of them is Anna’s. He feels her small hands on his arm.

 

“Mr. Angel, you said you would be okay! You promised!” she says, sounding distraught.

 

Cas manages to smile, even if he can’t find the energy to open his eyes and look at her.

 

“I’m okay, Anna,” he croaks. “I just need to rest for a while.”

 

He doesn’t know what happens after that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 11 premieres tonight and I'm not emotionally prepared.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean refrains from swearing out loud as Cas passes out in front of him. The little girl from the store is hugging him, unwilling to let him go until he wakes up and despite everything, he can’t help but think it’s adorable that she’s kind of imprinted on him a little.

 

“Don’t worry, sweetie. He’s going to be fine. He’s just sleeping,” Dean assures her with a kind smile. She sniffles and reluctantly lets go of Cas so Sam can scoop her up in his other arm. The other girl has her eyes closed, but she’s still awake. Sam had told her to keep her eyes closed to spare her the sight of all the headless bodies. They don’t want to scare the kids more than they already are.

 

Sam shifts a bit as he stands, cradling the two girls to his chest carefully. He takes them out to the Impala and Dean is left to heft Cas up. He’s a lot heavier now than when they first discovered him what seems like forever ago. He’s no longer skin and bones with broken wings. Dean sighs and shakes his head, struggling to get Cas into his arms until Sam comes back to assist him.

 

“What happened?” Dean asks. He can kind of draw a conclusion from the fact that he’s alive, without a scratch on him, but he still wants to know how Cas ended up so weak that he passed out on them.

 

“You died,” Sam says sullenly, still staring at Dean like he might keel over again at any second.

 

“Sammy, I’m fine. Cas fixed me up good as new, right?” he says.

 

“Yeah, after he smote the whole nest,” Sam replies. Dean raises an eyebrow and looks at their unconscious friend.

 

“Did he now? Huh, didn’t know the guy had it in him,” he murmurs, mainly to himself.

 

“You should’ve seen it. It was kinda scary, even though Cas is on our side. He flipped after that vamp killed you. The lights exploded and there was a bunch of thunder outside,” Sam says.

 

“Really?” Dean says, a bit skeptically. Sam just nods and Dean decides to take his word for it. After all, there’s no real reason for Sam to lie about something like that.

 

“So then what happened?” he asks.

 

“Cas brought you back. Don’t know how, but he did it. I guess using all that power burned up a lot of his grace.”

 

They reach the Impala and they buckle Cas into the back with the two girls. First thing they have to do is get them back to their parents. Dean tells them to buckle up and they pull away from the barn out onto the road. Anna’s mom cries with relief when they bring her daughter to the doorstep. She thanks them with tight hugs when Anna tells her how they saved her and when they tell her that the real hero is zonked out in the backseat of their car, she tells them to thank him for her. Dean smiles and says that he will before they head back to the Impala so they can take the other girl home.

 

Once both kids are safely returned, they head back to the bunker. Sam and Dean get Cas to his room and lay him down on the bed.

 

“How long do think it’ll be until he wakes up?” Dean asks.

 

“I don’t know,” Sam replies.

 

Dean reaches out and brushes the hair away from Cas’ forehead before he turns to Sam.

 

“We should let him sleep,” Dean says. Sam nods and they flick the lights off as they leave the angel’s room.

 

Cas is out for the rest of the night and Dean is starting to worry, even though Sam assures him that Cas is going to be fine. Dean just hopes that his brother is right. He’s grown attached to the little nerdy dude with wings and it would suck majorly if he never woke up.

 

Dean’s asleep in his room or at least mostly asleep when he hears a loud crash. He shoots upright, gun gripped in his hand as he gets to his feet. Nothing should be able to get in here, but he still can’t help being cautious. He creeps into the hallway, blinking as he adjusts to the light when he hears a scream from the room across from him.

 

“Cas?!” he shouts, shoving the door open and turning the light on.

 

“ _No!_ Let me go! I don’t want it!” Cas is thrashing in bed, legs tangled in the sheets, his wings flailing and knocking things off the bedside table. Dean puts his gun away and he rushes over to him, grabbing Cas’ shoulders to hold him steady. Cas shouts something in a language Dean doesn’t recognize and some invisible force pushes him away from the angel.

 

“Cas, it’s me! It’s Dean! Wake up!” he says, stumbling to keep his balance. The air in the room feels heavy with energy and the lamp next to the bed explodes when Cas lets out another scream.

 

“Please stop. It hurts! _Please, please stop it!_ ”

 

Dean chances getting close again and he grabs one of Cas’ hands where it’s clenched tightly in the blankets. Cas flinches but he doesn’t push Dean away again.

 

“Hey, angel it’s me. It’s Dean. I’m right here. Can you hear me?” he says, hopefully loud enough for Cas to hear him.

 

“D-Dean?” Cas breathes. “Where...where are you? It’s so dark. I can’t see.”

 

“I’m here, Cas. We’re in the bunker. You’re safe.”

 

“No,” Cas sobs, shaking his head. “Not safe. They’ll come back. They always come back. They’re going to hurt me.”

 

“Cas, nobody’s going to hurt you. I won’t let them. I’ll protect you,” Dean whispers. He leans down and kisses Cas’ forehead. “Wake up, Cas. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

 

Cas’ breath hitches, but he stirs eventually and his eyes flutter open, shiny with unshed tears. He blinks and they fall down his cheeks. Dean brushes them away with a thumb and smiles down at him.

 

“See? It’s okay. You’re okay.”

 

“Dean.”

 

Cas surges up and wraps his arms around him. The force of it pushes the air from Dean’s lungs, but he doesn’t care. He kisses the side of Cas’ head and runs his hands through the angel’s feathers, something he’s learned is a surefire way to calm him when he’s had a nightmare.

 

“Shh, I’ve got you, angel. It’s okay,” Dean murmurs, rocking him back and forth.

 

“I-I thought...I was there, Dean. They were hurting me. Slicing and c-cutting me a-and-”

 

“Hey. Hey, you’re _here_ now. They’re not going to hurt you ever again. I’d kill them before they even got anywhere near you.”

 

Cas nods shakily and buries his face in Dean’s shoulder.

 

“Can - can you stay with me? Just for tonight?” Cas whispers.

 

“I’ll stay as long as you want me.”

 

“Even if...even if it’s longer than just tonight?”

 

Dean smiles and brushes his hand through Cas’ hair.

 

“Especially then.”

 

Cas sighs and squeezes Dean tightly.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Anytime, angel.”

 

Dean urges Cas to lie down with him, the angel keeping his face tucked away in Dean’s night shirt. The hunter just rubs his back until Cas’ breathing evens out, his wings going lax as he falls asleep again. Dean kisses the top of Cas’ head, breathing in the scent of ozone that always seems to follow the angel around.

 

“Don’t worry, Cas,” he whispers. “I’ll watch over you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is my way of taking care of my angel, Castiel. Since the SPN writers clearly have no idea how to.


	8. Chapter 8

Cas wakes up warm and strangely happy. It doesn’t take him long to discern the cause. Dean is asleep, curled around him protectively. The sight of it makes him smile and he doesn’t even realize that his wing has curled around the man until Dean shifts in sleep and brushes up against it. It sends a jolt through him and he withdraws his wings with some degree of surprise. It seems his subconscious is well on its way to considering Dean as his mate. The thought makes him blush and he’s glad Dean is asleep so he can’t see.

 

He tries to move away and jumps when Dean reaches out and grabs his arm.

 

“Mmm, stay here,” he mumbles.

 

“Dean. I didn’t know you were awake.”

 

“Been awake a while. You snore.”

 

Cas gapes and scoffs at him, punching his shoulder.

 

“I do not.”

 

“You do. Like this.”

 

Dean imitates what is supposedly meant to be Cas’ snoring. The angel rolls his eyes and pokes Dean in the stomach, causing the man to let out a squeak. He covers himself with an arm and Cas raises an eyebrow.

 

“What are you doing?” Cas asks.

 

“Don’t poke me,” Dean grumbles.

 

“Why?”

 

“Cause,” Dean says, finally opening his eyes and smiling at him. “I’ll poke you back.”

 

It doesn’t seem like much of a threat so Cas reaches out and pokes Dean’s side where his arm fails to cover it. Dean lets out another noise and squirms away.

 

“Quit it, Cas. You do _not_ want to get in a tickle fight with me,” he warns. “You’ll regret it.”

 

“I’m not ticklish,” Cas says.

 

“Really?” Dean says. His hand darts out and his fingers skitter across Cas’ skin but the angel just lies there completely unaffected. The hunter’s grin falters for a moment and when Cas smirks wickedly, he thinks he sees a hint of fear on his face too.

 

“Told you.”

 

Dean lets out a laugh when Cas pounces on him, fingers dancing along Dean’s sides. Dean tries to roll away but Cas sits on his legs and doesn’t let him up until the hunter has tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. The ruckus manages to attract Sam’s attention and neither of them hear the door open until Sam lets out a surprised noise.

 

“What is going on?” he asks, staring at the both of them.

 

“Dean is ticklish,” Cas says, explaining everything. Sam smirks and looks at his brother, still giggling to himself. There’s a warmth on the younger man’s face but only Cas seems to notice. It’s hidden well enough when Dean gets himself together and unexpectedly shoves Cas off his legs.

 

His wings flail as he rights himself and he stands up, holding out a hand to tug Dean out of bed.

 

“I was just coming to say that breakfast is ready,” Sam says, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “If you’re done goofing around.”

 

“Cas started it!” Dean says. Sam just rolls his eyes and leaves them standing there in Cas’ room, hands still joined. He turns and looks at Cas, shrugging. “Breakfast?”

 

“Of course.”

 

They head to the kitchen together and Dean gets Cas a plate of food before sitting in the chair next to him. Dean’s got a shoulder around him as they talk - about nothing and everything, it seems. Cas feels that warmth again, wrapping around his heart and pumping through his veins. He leans closer to Dean when the hunter laughs at something and smiles even when he doesn’t understand the joke.

 

He can’t help wonder what the two of them are now. The feelings he has for the human go beyond that of mere friendship, but he has no idea how Dean thinks of him. Perhaps he’s just being kind out of pity for Cas. The thought discourages him some and he tries to will it away. Dean isn’t like that, or at least, Cas hopes not. The smile on Dean’s face seems genuine and Cas tells himself that there’s no way that he could be faking it, but still the idea persists.

 

It doesn’t take long for Dean to notice.

 

“Something wrong, Cas? Feeling okay?” he asks.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

It doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears and he can tell Dean isn’t buying it for a second.

 

“You sure? You can tell me anything, you know,” Dean informs him.

 

“I’m fine, Dean,” Cas repeats, a little more assertively this time. Dean raises an eyebrow but he doesn’t push the issue, instead goes back to recounting the time he and Sam played at being superheroes and Sam broke his wrist. The brothers settle back into their bickering and joking easily enough, but Cas can sense a degree of awkwardness now. Mostly between himself and Dean. Sam occasionally casts him concerned looks when he thinks Cas won’t notice, but he does. Dean removes his arm from around Cas and Cas wonders what that means.

 

He looks down at his plate, poking at a stack of pancakes to give himself something to do. He hates when this happens, when he just can’t simply be happy with his situation. His life is a thousand times better now than it’s ever been and yet he’s still unsatisfied for some reason. He can’t help thinking it must be his own fault. Sam and Dean are trying their hardest to accommodate him - Dean always making him meals and Sam teaching him people skills, since his are a bit rusty - but Cas can’t shake the feeling that he’s being nothing but a burden to them. After all, he can’t think of anyone, in Heaven or on Earth, who could stand to tolerate him for too long.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

The question comes from Sam this time and he forces himself to shrug indifferently.

 

“I’m fine,” he says, beginning to sound like a broken record.

 

“You haven’t even eaten your food. You just kinda...stabbed it to death,” Dean says, indicating the now soggy pieces of pancake covering Cas’ plate.

 

“I’m just not hungry,” Cas says.

 

Dean watches him for a moment before shaking his head.

 

“Yeah, that’s not gonna fly. Seriously, man. What’s up? Did I say something?” he asks, genuinely worried. Cas hates it - hates that someone as wonderful as Dean is wasting his time, his energy and everything else worrying about something like him.

 

“No, it’s not you,” Cas assures him. He scoops up some of the pancake remains and even though they’re drenched in his favorite maple syrup, they taste bland in his mouth.

 

“Then what? Cas, you’re starting to scare me. Are you okay?”

 

“I said I’m fine! Why do you care so much?” Cas snaps. Dean flinches away from the anger in his voice and Cas immediately feels awful. He sighs and lets his fork clatter loudly onto his plate before pushing himself away from the table. He’s not hungry anymore. He just wants to sleep and maybe never wake up so he won’t have to face his inevitable departure. Cas knows that he’s overstayed his welcome and his little outburst just has to be the tipping point for Dean to leave him on the side of the road somewhere.

 

When he gets to his room, he almost slams the door, but he doesn’t want to make Dean any more upset and it falls shut with a disappointing click. Cas crawls into bed and curls the blankets around him as much as he can with his wings sticking out. They seem sad now, even though Cas is trying to stay angry. His wings have always shown his true emotions and Cas has always had trouble controlling them.

 

They tense up when Cas hears a knock at the door.

 

“Cas, it’s me.”

 

It’s Dean. Of course it is. Cas contemplates just ignoring him, but he knows Dean will come in anyway.

 

“Come in,” he says. The door squeaks as it opens and Dean stands there leaning against the door frame.

 

“Wanna tell me what that was all about?” Dean asks.

 

“It’s nothing you’d understand.”

 

“You’d be surprised. Scoot.”

 

Dean waits until Cas makes room for him and then lies down next to him, on his side so they face each other. The hunter reaches out and places a hand on Cas’ shoulder, squeezing him gently.

 

“I meant what I said. You can tell me anything. I’m your friend, Cas. It’s what I’m here for.”

 

“Are you?” Cas asks before his mouth can consult his brain.

 

“Am I what?” Dean replies, blinking in confusion.

 

“My friend. Or are you just taking care of me until it’s time for me to go?”

 

Dean’s expression is a cross between hurt and anger, but the hurt seems to be the dominant emotion. The hunter lets out a huff and he drops his hand. Cas silently wills him to put it back but Dean just fiddles with a loose string on the blanket scrunched up between them.

 

“Depends. What am I to you?” Dean finally asks.

 

 _Everything_ , Cas immediately thinks. Luckily, he’s stupid enough not to say it.

 

“I...I don’t know yet,” he says instead. “I thought...I thought when we first met I was just staying here until I was better. But it’s been months now. I’d say I’ve overstayed my welcome. Aren’t you tired of me?”

 

“Hell no. Cas, you’re my best friend. Better than that, you’re family now.”

 

“What?” Cas breathes, eyes going wide. Dean can’t possibly mean that. Who would want someone like him in their family? The angels in Heaven sure hadn’t.

 

“Didn’t you know that? I’d die for you in a heartbeat, Cas. I thought you knew that.”

 

“I - I had no idea. I thought you were just being kind out of pity for me,” Cas admits.

 

“I hate it when people do that with me, so I try not to do the same with others,” Dean replies. He swallows hard and looks away. “I’m being kind to you because I like you.”

 

Dean says it so quietly, like it’s something forbidden to him. Cas just stares at him in disbelief until Dean eventually feels the need to elaborate.

 

“I like talking to you. Laughing with you, even if you don’t get why. I like watching movies with you, even though you talk through the whole thing, because I like the sound of your voice,” Dean says. Once he’s started, the words seem to come out in a rush, like if he doesn’t say it all now, he’ll lose his courage.

 

“I like watching you garden. You know, nobody I’ve ever met talks to bees? But you do and I think it’s adorable. And I like teaching you stuff. I had to do it all with Sam when we were growing up but half the time I didn’t even know what I was doing myself. This time I know I’m helping you learn and...and I like that. Did you know your eyes light up when you figure something out? It’s...amazing and I just...I want to see more of it.”

 

Cas stays as still as a statue, in case he scares off any more of Dean’s confessions.

 

“I want you to stay with us, Cas. With me. Will you? Stay, that is?”

 

Dean’s cheeks are a deep red and he’s pointedly looking anywhere but at Castiel.

 

“I...” Cas starts, swallowing against the lump in his throat. Dean’s eyes fly to his own, shocking in their bright green beauty and Cas thinks he wouldn’t survive a day without looking into those shining eyes. He nods, feeling that warmth in his chest blossom like the flowers outside. The happiness takes root in his grace and a smile grows on his face.

 

“Yes, Dean.”

 

Dean smiles, brighter than the sun. Cas basks in the glow of it, nodding his head again in affirmation.

  
  
“I’ll stay.” 


	9. Chapter 9

After yesterday, Dean stays with Cas during the nights. His presence seems to help with the angel’s nightmares, but every so often, Cas will wake them both up with his screaming. It hurts to hear his angel in so much pain, to hear him so terrified. Dean desperately wishes he could do something to stop the nightmares from happening, but the most he can do is wrap Cas tightly in his arms and hold him until he falls asleep again. Sometimes, Cas has trouble relaxing enough to sleep so Dean will tell him stories or sing to him, a little bit off key, but the angel doesn’t seem to care.

 

Some nights, Dean is so in tune with Cas that he wakes up before the nightmare can really take root. He holds Cas’ hand and strokes his wings, kissing the side of his head and whispering soothing words to him. It does the job well enough. Cas will let out a sigh as his dream takes a more pleasant turn and Dean stays awake a little longer just to make sure he’s okay.

 

Other nights, he can’t help but wonder what Cas is seeing. Just the sound of his screams is enough to make Dean feel sick but it doesn’t stop him from being curious about what happened. From what he can tell, Cas was kept somewhere underground, swathed in darkness. He knows because when Cas wakes up he panics if it’s dark in the room. Dean’s taken to leaving the lamp on by the bed just so Cas will know he’s safe.

 

Sometimes Cas calls out names in his sleep. He doesn’t know who Metatron is, or Naomi, but he comes to hate them for whatever they did to his angel. If he ever does find them, he’s going to ensure they don’t have a quick death.

 

One night, Dean wakes up and he’s alone. It’s unusual for Cas to leave the room, especially if he’s had a nightmare. He normally lets Dean comfort him, but now the other side of the bed is empty. Dean tells himself not to panic. He’s certain that Cas is just outside wandering to clear his head. He grabs his robe and cinches the tie around his middle. It’s getting colder now and the bunker is underground, meaning that it’s even worse in their rooms.

 

“Cas?” he calls out. He tries to keep his voice down so he doesn’t wake Sam, but the longer he goes without finding Cas, the more worried he’s starting to get. He tries each room he can think of that Cas might have gone to but he still can’t locate the angel. Dean wonders for a second if he’s gone outside and he checks around back where Cas’ little garden is growing. He’s not there and Dean has a fleeting worry that maybe Cas has just left.

 

 _He wouldn’t. He promised he’d stay_ , Dean tells himself. He goes back inside and searches some of the other rooms in the bunker. He finally finds Cas curled in a ball on the floor in the storage room. He’s asleep and Dean wonders why Cas came all the way here instead of just waking him up.

 

“Cas? Hey, angel, wake up,” Dean urges softly. Cas mumbles and he looks up at Dean from between the mass of his wings. He looks surprised to see him there.

 

“Dean? What are you doing here?”

 

“Looking for you, man. What’s the matter? Nightmare?”

 

Cas nods and Dean helps him to his feet, wrapping his arm around the angel’s shoulders.

 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Dean asks.

 

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

 

“You wouldn’t have. It’s what I’m here for, angel.” Dean hugs him tightly when they get back to their room, squeezing a surprised noise out of Cas. “You scared me half to death. I thought you left.”

 

“No, I just...” Cas trails off and looks at his feet as though he’s ashamed of something. “You hardly get any sleep anymore because of me. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I don’t even need to sleep.”

 

“So?” Dean says with a shrug. “Doesn’t mean you can’t.”

 

“But it’s my fault you’re tired all the time,” Cas mumbles.

 

“Cas, tired is my natural state. Believe me, it’s fine. I get more sleep next to you than I have in years.”

 

“Are...are you sure?”

 

“Yeah. Now come back to bed.”

 

Cas stares at him, mouth slightly agape like he can’t quite believe that Dean’s being serious. When he doesn’t budge, Dean takes his hand and tugs him along to their room. He shrugs off the robe he was wearing and hangs it back up on its hook before he goes and lies down next to Cas. He snuggles up behind him, burying his face in the ebony feathers. At first, they usually only slept face to face or with Cas on his stomach, but Dean finds that sleeping like this isn’t as uncomfortable as he thought. It’s like having another pillow and Cas seems to enjoy it as well. He says it makes him feel safe and there’s no way Dean’s going to stop if that’s the case.

 

“Night, Cas,” Dean whispers, kissing the back of Cas’ neck. The wings flutter under the attention and Dean tries not to think about how affectionate he’s been with the angel as of late, about what it means for the two of them.

 

“Good night, Dean,” Cas whispers back. He tugs the sheets up around them and in no time at all, Dean is falling asleep again.

* * *

  
When he wakes up the next morning, Cas is still in his arms, chest rising and falling slowly. Dean smiles and nuzzles at the angel’s skin before he realizes what he’s doing and with a blush, scoots back a little. God, he’s pathetic. He can’t help but wonder when he turned into some touch starved little kid. He’s just glad Cas doesn’t seem to think it’s weird.

 

Speaking of which, he feels Cas stirring in his arms and he pulls back so Cas can turn around to look at him. The breath catches in his throat when he sees how beautiful Cas looks in the dim lighting of the room. It frames his insane bedhead like a halo and Dean swears that sometimes Cas uses a little of his grace to make his eyes brighter than they normally are.

 

“What?” Cas asks groggily. He blinks lazily and Dean’s heart pounds in his chest. He’s just barely able to stop himself from lunging forward and pulling the angel into a kiss.

 

“Nothing,” Dean replies hastily. _You’re just so beautiful, Castiel._

 

Cas’ eyes widen and he gasps. Dean looks at him confusedly until he remembers that angels are able to read thoughts. He blushes profusely and coughs, looking away from his friend.

 

“I mean-”

 

“You really think that?” Cas breathes.

 

“I...” Dean stops and bites his lip. He can’t help but think it’s not fair he has to watch what he thinks along with what he says. At least he has a little control over what comes out of his mouth. His thoughts on the other hand, aren’t nearly as censored.

 

“Dean?” Cas says, drawing his attention back to the angel. Cas seems to have gotten even closer, their lips inches away.

 

“Cas...you...I...” he swallows hard and brings up a hand to the angel’s cheek. He nods. “Y-Yeah. I really think that.”

 

Cas blinks at him for a second and then he smiles, all teeth and gums, eyes crinkling at the corners. Dean swears he feels his heart stutter for a moment and he smiles back before he even realizes he’s doing it.

 

“Come here,” Dean whispers. He slides the hand on Cas’ cheek back to grip his neck and pulls him in. When their lips finally touch, Dean can _feel_ electricity and power and that ethereal air Cas carries about him covering the hunter like a blanket. He sighs into Cas’ mouth and pulls the angel on top of him, sliding his hands up into the angel’s feathers.

 

Cas jumps and his wings twitch as he lets out a high pitched noise, like he’s surprised. Dean pulls away and Cas shakes his head.

 

“You didn’t hurt me,” Cas assures him. “It feels nice.”

 

He reaches behind himself and grabs Dean’s arm, lifting until Dean can feel warm feathers underneath his fingers again. Dean smiles up at him and uses his grip on Cas to tug him down into another soft kiss, the angel propping himself up on his forearms. He regrets that he can’t talk like this, but then he remembers he can just think what he wants to say.

 

_You’re so beautiful, Cas. So perfect. I wish we could do this forever._

 

Cas huffs in laughter against his lips and Dean is startled a bit when he hears a voice that’s not his own answering in his head.

 

**I agree. This is very pleasant.**

 

Dean pulls back for air and he stares up at Cas, all bright eyed and messy hair.

 

“Have you always been able to do that?” he asks. _The talking in my head part, I mean_ , he clarifies.

 

“Yes, but I’ve never been close enough to anyone to do it,” Cas replies. He smiles and lowers his head to Dean’s chest - not kissing or anything, simply rests there listening to Dean’s heartbeat. “I’ve never been close to anyone period. You’re the first.”

 

Dean caresses the angel’s wings and hugs him gently.

 

“Glad it’s me,” he murmurs. Cas hums in agreement, fingers tracing aimless patterns on the hunter’s chest.

 

“I think I love you,” Cas whispers. “Is this what it feels like? This warmth? Every time I see you...I can feel the sun rising in my chest and my heart feels as though it might beat right out of me.”

 

Dean feels his own heart race at the angel’s words and his grip tightens on Cas.

 

“I think so,” he says, so quiet that he wonders if Cas can hear him. “I feel it too, Cas.”

 

Cas leans up on his elbows and kisses him again, so achingly sweet Dean feels like he might cry.

 

**I love you, Dean.**

 

Dean feels like the sun is rising in his chest, so warm just like Cas said. 

 

_I love you too, Cas._


	10. Chapter 10

Cas regains use of his wings a few days after his confession to Dean. It helps that he’s had the brothers to help him. Sam calls it physical therapy when they stretch his wings out and let Cas test the range of his muscles. He feels a lot better than he has in years and having friends to help take care of him is something he never had before. It’s nice.

 

“Ready to go, babe?” Dean asks. Cas smiles at the pet name. Dean sometimes calls him that, among other things, when he’s not thinking about it. Sam thinks it’s ‘adorable’ and Dean gets all blushy and embarrassed when it’s brought up, but he doesn’t stop doing it either.

 

“Of course, beloved,” Cas answers. Dean ducks his head at the word but Cas can sense his happiness. He knows that Dean loves it when he calls him that.

 

“Well, Cas? Let’s see those wings in action,” Sam says. Cas smiles and nods and he turns away from them, taking off at a run as he jumps into the air.

 

He can feel the wind in his hair as his wings beat to get him higher and it’s exhilarating. He lets out a laugh as he touches the clouds. He reaches out and runs his fingers through them, hand coming away wet from the moisture locked inside. He twirls around in the air, looking down at Sam and Dean, who are now the size of ants. He thinks he can see them waving at him and he waves back even though he doesn’t know if they can even see him.

 

Cas spends what feels like hours in the air, gliding around lazily and just basking in the sunlight peeking out from behind the clouds every so often. He flies until the sun starts to sink below the horizon, the sky starting to turn orange. He descends then, slowly and carefully as the ground gets closer and closer. Sam is gone, probably having returned inside. Dean is sitting outside with a cooler and a bottle of cola in his hand. He smiles when Cas touches down and stands up to greet him with a kiss.

 

“Have fun, sweetheart?” he asks.

 

“Yes. I felt so free, Dean. Nothing compares to the feeling of flight,” he says with an airy laugh. “You should come with me sometime. I can carry you.”

 

Dean balks at that and laughs nervously.

 

“Sorry, Cas. But uh, me and flying? Not a good combination. I’d end up throwing up all over you,” he jokes, looking a bit pale even at the mention of flying.

 

“It’s not that bad, Dean,” Cas attempts to convince him. “And I would never let you fall.”

 

“I know you wouldn’t, but uh, still. Best not try it,” Dean says. Cas just nods and he takes Dean’s hand.

 

“Alright, beloved. If it scares you, then I won’t risk it,” he says. Dean looks a bit relieved and he leans into Cas with a sigh.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

 

“Don’t worry about it. Want to get something to eat?” he asks instead. Dean seems to appreciate the change in topic and he nods.

 

Dean makes them burgers for dinner and they all spend the night in front of the television in one of the rooms they’ve converted into a recreational room. Cas rests his head on Dean’s shoulder as they watch one of the DVDs they own. He doesn’t really get why some of the things are happening, but the movie is intriguing nonetheless. Dean has seen it multiple times so he talks through it, telling Cas things he learned about the movie from listening to the director’s commentary. Cas smiles, happy that Dean is happy and he leans up to kiss him on the forehead. Sam fakes a gagging noise but he’s smiling at them nonetheless.

 

“What was that for?” Dean asks. “Not that I’m complaining.”

 

“I like seeing you happy,” Cas explains simply. He leaves it at that and goes back to watching the movie. Dean wraps an arm around him a few seconds later and when Sam remarks how adorable they are, Dean mumbles at him to shut up.

 

Later that night, after they’ve cleaned up and gone to their rooms, Cas curls up around Dean, thinking hard. He loves this man with all of his being, yet he can’t help wondering how Dean could feel as strongly about him when the hunter knows next to nothing about him. Surely he must be curious and while when they first met, he knew Dean was giving him space and not overstepping his bounds, he wonders if he should tell Dean about what happened to him. It’s been so long now that it doesn’t scare him so much anymore. Aside from the occasional night terrors, which are few and far between these days, it almost feels like it happened to someone else.

 

“When I was a fledgling, I remember my brother Gabriel taking me to Earth.”

 

He starts with the easy things first. Things he has no trouble talking about. Dean pauses in his grooming of Castiel’s wings and looks down at where the angel’s head is pillowed on his chest. Cas continues when he’s sure Dean is listening. He tells him about the little gray fish heaving itself up onto the beach, about Gabriel instructing him not to step on it because there were big plans for that fish. He tells Dean about the first humans and about the creation of the universe. Dean listens with rapt attention, not once interrupting him.

 

“I know you’re curious about me,” Cas says before Dean can ask why he’s telling him these things. “You don’t know very much about where I came from, about who I used to be before we met. And I know that you’re curious about what happened to me when I was imprisoned. When we get dressed in the morning, I can feel you staring at me. I know you’re wondering how I got all these scars.”

 

“Cas, you don’t have to talk about that,” Dean murmurs, fingers tightening in his wings briefly before smoothing over the feathers.

 

“I know. But you need to know. Before we can be...more than we already are...you need to know what you’re getting into.”

 

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?”

 

“I’ve done things, beloved. Things I’m not proud of. You deserve to know, even if...even if you don’t love me after.”

 

Dean pulls him into his lap and kisses him hard, hands gripping Cas’ hips tightly.

 

“Nothing could make me stop loving you,” Dean says firmly when he pulls away. “You hear me? _Nothing_.”

 

Cas smiles weakly and traces the outline of Dean’s anti-possession tattoo.

 

“It’s reassuring to hear you say that.”

 

He swallows hard and begins to unbutton his shirt. Dean watches him curiously and inhales sharply as Cas shrugs it off. Cas has a fleeting thought that Dean might think him ugly for all his scars but he chases it from his mind before it can take root. Dean loves him. And nothing will change that. He hopes, at least.

 

“This was my first,” Cas says, pointing to the brand peeking out above his waistband. He shoves his pants a little lower to reveal a three digit number, faded with time but still clearly reading ‘401’. “They never bothered learning my name and I wasn’t too inclined to give it to them anyway. They just referred to me as my test subject number.”

 

Dean traces a thumb over the numbers, pain evident in his eyes as he swears under his breath.

 

“I’m going to find every last one of them and rip their hearts out,” Dean growls. Cas calms him with a kiss to the forehead and he takes Dean’s hand and squeezes.

 

“I’m fine now. It’s old, anyway. I barely even think about it anymore.”

 

Dean swallows hard and he traces over the line going down Cas’ chest and stomach. The rest of the scar is in the shape of a Y and Cas grimaces a bit. He hated getting that one more than any of the others.

 

“What did they do here?” he asks hoarsely.

 

“Angels can’t die,” Cas says, “So when they cut me open to figure out how we work, they knew I wouldn’t die. It was excruciatingly painful though. They injected me with a drug but it did nothing to numb the pain. All it did was immobilize me.”

 

Dean exhales shakily and he presses his lips to where the three lines join together just below Cas’ collarbone.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

 

“If it helps, that was the worst they did to me. Everything else paled in comparison. Except, perhaps, when they cut my wings. That hurt a lot as well.”

 

Dean digs his fingers into the bases of Cas’ wings and pulls him close.

 

“How long?”

 

“Ten years. When they ran out of tests to do on me, they...they made me help them do the same to others. I didn’t want to, Dean. You have to believe me. I hated every second of it. But if I didn’t then they would hurt me. There was no scientific exploration behind it. They just did it to keep me in my place.”

 

Cas doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Dean rubs a soothing hand down his back.

 

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t have a choice.”

 

“No, you don’t understand. I hurt the other creatures they brought in. I hurt other angels too. My own brothers and sisters. They all hate me. It’s why when I escaped I didn’t return to Heaven. Samandriel was the only one I was able to help escape and when they found out what I did...” He shudders, remembering the agony of having his grace drawn out of him with a syringe.“I was weak as a newborn angel when they were through with punishing me. I had to wait until I was  strong enough again to escape.”

 

“How did you...?”

 

“I created a distraction. They brought in new subjects every few months. I was in charge of...of cataloguing them. I was supposed to give them drugs to keep them disoriented, but I gave them a different one. It made them sick and...and eventually it would kill them. But the others didn’t know it was me and when they were all busy trying to find out what was wrong I walked right out the front door.”

 

“Cas-”

 

“I did that, Dean. I killed them to save myself. I left them there, in so much pain, I...” Cas chokes on air and he hugs Dean tightly to ground himself. “I wasn’t even thinking when I did it. About them or what I’d done. I just wanted _out_. I wanted to leave.”

 

“You did what you had to, Cas.”

 

“I didn’t have to kill them! I should’ve tried helping them but I was just being selfish and-”

 

“And you would’ve ended up staying there for God knows how long. And they would’ve been worse off if you hadn’t done it.”

 

Cas hiccups a sob and he buries his face in Dean’s neck.

 

“I’m a monster, Dean. Just like the things you hunt.”

 

“You’re not. Hey, look at me.” Dean lifts Cas’ chin and says again, without a shadow of a doubt, “ _You are not a monster_. You’re an angel of the Lord that went through hell and did what you had to do to drag yourself out.”

 

Cas blinks and Dean wipes away his tears, leaning in and kissing him softly.

 

“I still love you,” he whispers. “I told you. Nothing would make me stop.”

 

“H-How...after what I told you. How?”

 

“Because you didn’t kill those people out of spite. You didn’t do it because you wanted to. You did it to save yourself. And I know you think that’s selfish, but sometimes you have to be a little selfish if you’re going to survive. Even if it’s going to hurt someone else.”

 

“Dean...”

 

“And I’ve seen you, Cas. I’ve seen how much you care about life. How much you cherish it. I know that what happened was the last thing you would have wanted, but it was the only thing you could do. You’re not a bad person.”

 

Cas sniffs and Dean pulls him closer, arms wrapped around him. A hand combs through Cas’ feathers and he sighs, relaxing into the touch. Dean whispers sweet nothings to him and kisses the top of his head until Cas’ eyelids start to droop. The hunter lies down with Cas still on top of him and Cas scoots so he’s lying next to Dean instead.

 

“You’re not a bad person,” Dean repeats. “And I still love you. That’s never going to change.”

 

Cas nods and he smiles wearily, nestling into Dean’s side and closing his eyes.  
  


  
“I love you too, Dean. And thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys have been liking it so far! I've been busy with school so I haven't had time to work on stuff as much as I'd like. But hopefully I'll have the next chapter edited and up within the next few days.
> 
>  
> 
> That last episode though. (Spoilers I guess)
> 
> There was so much Destiel I feel like I hallucinated everything that happened. I mean, it was basically straight out of a hurt/comfort fic, complete with Dean wrapping Cas in a blanket and cradling his face when he woke up after Rowena cured him. I'm still not convinced this is real life.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean wonders how his life got to be so crazy. If someone had told him a few years ago that he’d be living in an underground bunker with an angel of the Lord as his significant other, he’d have laughed that person into their grave. Yet here he is, arms wrapped around said angel who looks absolutely adorable when he’s asleep, snoring away like it’s an Olympic sport. Cas claims he doesn’t do it and Dean’s considering recording him one of these nights just to prove him wrong. But as strange as his life is now, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

 

“Mmmm. Dean,” Cas sighs in his sleep. Dean can’t help chuckling and he leans over and presses a kiss to the angel’s lips.

 

“Right here, baby,” he murmurs. “Wanna wake up for me?”

 

Cas grumbles and moves his face away from Dean’s.

 

“Five more minutes.”

 

Dean laughs and shakes his head, fingers curling into Cas’ shirt and tugging him closer.

 

“Alright, you big dork. Five more minutes.”

 

“Hmmm,” Cas hums, snuggling back into Dean’s touch and pressing his nose to the hunter’s neck. “You smell nice.”

 

Dean blushes and he’s glad that Cas has his eyes closed. But before he can even formulate a response, Cas is snoring softly again, well on his way back to dreamland. Dean huffs quietly in amusement and brushes the angel’s hair back. He can feel the scruff growing under his hand and he wonders if Cas is going to let it grow out more or attempt to shave again. Last time had ended disastrously, with the angel making wide hurt puppy eyes when he’d nicked himself with Dean’s razor. Dean had given in and taken care of him, even though the angel is more than capable of healing himself. He can’t really blame the guy though. After being hurt by others for so long, he deserves some TLC.

 

He’s almost inclined to follow Cas back to sleep when there’s a tentative knock at the door.

 

“Dean? Cas? You two decent?” comes Sam’s voice through the door. Dean rolls his eyes and calls for his brother to come in. Sam raises an eyebrow when he sees Cas snoring away in Dean’s arms, both of them fully clothed.

 

“So, when you said you started sleeping together...you literally meant-”

 

“Did you _need_ something, Sam? Or did you just come in here to be annoying?” Dean teases, glad that Cas’ wings partially hide his blush.

 

He still hasn’t slept with Cas in the way Sam had implied when the two of them first got together. He tells himself that he’s just waiting for Cas to be ready, but really, he’s kind of worried about giving all of himself over to someone like that. With the girls he’s been with at the end of a hunt, it had never gone farther than a one night stand. But Cas - Cas is special and he deserves the world. And Dean intends to give it to him - it just so happens he’s not quite ready to let go like that yet. He’s never done that with anyone. With Cassie or Lisa or anyone else. He’s never been close enough.

 

“Actually, I found a case,” Sam says, quietly so he’s not disturbing Cas.

 

“Can it wait?” Dean asks, indicating the sleeping angel wrapped around him like an octopus. He doesn’t think he’d be able to get away without waking him.

 

“It’s kind of important,” Sam concedes, “but I guess waiting a few more minutes won’t hurt.”

 

Dean sighs in relief, though he can’t help wondering what would be so important that Sam risked being mentally scarred to come tell him. He waits until Sam shuts the door to hunker back down onto the bed, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to the angel’s forehead.

 

They lie there for another five minutes like Dean had promised and then he tries to wake Cas up again.

 

“Cas? Hey sweetheart, you gotta wake up now,” Dean whispers. He presses a dozen tiny kisses to the angel’s face until Cas groans and pulls back.

 

“I don’t want to,” he grumbles in complaint.

 

“I know, Cas. Me neither. But Sammy found a case and we gotta go see what he’s got for us before he gets his panties in a twist,” Dean jokes. Cas sighs and he throws the covers off him, sliding his feet into a pair of slippers they bought the other day. Dean smiles at the yellow and black fluffy bee slippers and he can’t help thinking his boyfriend is the biggest, adorable dork he’s ever met.

 

“Look at you, all cute with your fuzzy bee slippers,” Dean teases.

 

“I’m not cute. I’m an angel of the Lord,” Cas mutters, grabbing onto Dean as they shuffle out to the library. Dean laughs and he kisses the top of Cas’ head, wrapping an arm around his angel’s shoulders.

 

“Nah, you’re totally cute,” Dean says, smiling at him. Cas scoffs, but he’s grinning too and he snuggles closer to Dean.

 

“So nice of you to finally join me,” Sam remarks when he sees the both of them. His shoulders are shaking like he’s trying not to laugh and Dean rolls his eyes.

 

“Shut your face. What’s up?” he asks, eager to change the subject before Sam can embarrass him.

 

“Right,” Sam says, sobering a bit, “Nothing good. Here.”

 

He slides his laptop over to Dean and the hunter leans down to read the article Sam has pulled up. At first, he doesn’t see why the police discovering a body is such a big deal. Murders happen all the time. The only time they need to be concerned is if something supernatural is doing the killing.

 

Although it seems in this case, it’s the supernatural being killed. Dean’s surprised and slightly disturbed to realize that the body the police have discovered is that of an angel’s. Apparently it isn’t the first either. There’s another article dating back a month and there’s even a picture. Except for the crooked wings, Dean can barely even recognize the creature in the black and white picture as anything resembling an angel. The more he reads, the more bodies pop up - different sorts of creatures in various stages of decay.

 

Cas is staring at the laptop screen with wide eyes and Dean feels the ridiculous urge to cover them and shield him from seeing this. Instead, he turns the laptop away and Sam comes to pick it up, clicking a few times and typing something out.

 

“So. What’s doing it?” Dean asks, though he kind of already has a suspect.

 

“Nobody knows. The police have never had to deal with this sort of thing before. They’re in way over their heads,” Sam says. “I say we go and figure out for ourselves.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean agrees. He turns to Cas and caresses a wing gently. “You up for this? You don’t have to come if you don’t want. I won’t be upset.”

 

Cas shakes his head and bites his lip.

 

“I’m going. This looks like Metatron’s work and we need to stop him before he can hurt more innocent people,” Cas says.

 

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll be there the whole time, okay? I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

 

“Promise?” Cas asks, barely a whisper.

 

“I swear on my mother’s grave that I’ll keep you safe,” Dean promises. He hugs Cas tightly and closes his eyes, wishing that he could just magically make this go away. He doesn’t want Cas reliving this nightmare by going after the man who ordered all those horrible things done to him.

 

“I’m going to make some calls. See if there are other hunters that know anything,” Sam says quietly before he leaves them in peace.

 

“I’m scared, Dean,” Cas admits after a long silence.

 

“I know, angel. I know. But I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to face this alone.”

* * *

 

When they get to the police station, Dean leans over in the front seat of the car so he can fix Cas’ tie. The doof somehow managed to tie it backwards and Dean smiles as fixes it before fitting a fake badge inside the inner pocket of the coat.

 

“There we go,” he says, smoothing down Cas’ shirt and giving him a thumbs up. Cas smiles in thanks and then the three of them exit the car to head towards the station.

 

“Can I help you?” asks the guy they meet inside.

 

“FBI. Agents Smith, Novak, and Wesson” Dean says, flipping open his badge and gesturing to the others. Sam does the same but Cas’ is upside down. He refrains from smiling as he reaches out and flips it the right way. “He’s new,” he says, gesturing towards Cas.

 

“Detective Cohle. What can I do for you?”

 

“We’re here about the body you discovered,” Sam says.

 

“The FBI hires angels now?” Cohle asks, looking at Cas curiously.

 

“New policy, yeah,” Dean grumbles. “Anyway, do you mind showing us in?”

 

“Follow me,” the detective says and leads them further into the precinct. He leads them to an evidence board, pictures pinned to it along with sticky notes covered in messy handwriting.

 

“Good thing you guys showed up. We were just thinking about calling in the feds to handle this cause we are in way over our heads,” he says.

 

“Let’s start with what you do know,” Sam suggests. Detective Cohle nods and he picks up a flimsy manilla folder before handing it to Sam.

 

“I know it’s not a lot. Whoever’s doing this doesn’t leave much behind. No DNA, no trace evidence, nothing.”

 

Cohle walks over to the board and taps one of the pictures of the crime scene.

 

“Coroner fixed time of death for this one a few days ago. But the other bodies we found have been out there a while. One of them we think was a vampire, going by the extra teeth. Got another angel here, and then this one might have been a shapeshifter,” he says. He shakes his head and lets out a quiet chuckle.

 

“Something funny?” Dean asks.

 

“Just...fifteen years I’ve been doing this job and if you’d told me when I first started I’d be investigating vampire deaths and whatnot, I’d tell you to get some help,” he replies.

 

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, sharing a look with Dean who hides his snicker behind a cough. “Crazy world we live in, huh?”

 

The detective just nods and gestures at the folder Sam is holding.

 

“Anyway, everything we’ve got is in there. Tox screen found pancuronium bromide in their system. We still haven’t figured out where they got such large quantities of it. Drugging a vampire or a shapeshifter is one thing, but it takes a lot for the angels,” he says.

 

“And what’s this drug do exactly?” Sam asks.

 

“It’s a paralytic. Usually it’s used in lethal injections,” Cohle explains. He sighs and shakes his head. “It’s awful, what these people are doing. It doesn’t knock you out - only stops you from moving, so whatever they do to ‘em, they’re awake for all of it.”

 

Sam flips through the report and whatever he finds, it makes him look up, straight at Cas with this pained look on his face. The angel squirms under his gaze and inches closer to Dean, who wraps an arm around him, heedless of the fact that the detective is watching them.

 

“Cas, I had no idea,” Sam starts.

 

“Don’t, Sam,” Dean cuts him off. “Let’s just...focus on the case, okay?”

 

Sam nods and he goes back to talking to Detective Cohle. Dean has no doubt that they discovered the same kinds of scars and wounds on the bodies that he’s seen on Cas’. He squeezes Cas and brushes his thumb along the angel’s side before he lets go of him.

 

“You good?” he murmurs.

 

“I’m fine,” Cas replies. He takes Dean’s hand in his and smiles a little. “Thank you, beloved.”

 

Dean knows that Cas is far from okay, but he’s trying to be strong nonetheless.

 

“Didn’t think relationships were allowed in the Bureau,” the detective remarks when he sees them. Dean shrugs and he suspects that Cohle knows they’re not being entirely truthful, but the other guy doesn’t push it. Instead he gestures at Cas. “Something you know?”

 

“Not that long ago...I could have ended up being one of the bodies you found,” Cas replies. The detective nods, expression grim. “These two saved me. I owe my life to them.”

 

“You don’t owe us anything, Cas,” Dean mumbles.

 

“I hate to ask this, but do you know anything that could help us? Anything you can remember about who’s doing this or where they might be?” the detective asks.

 

“The only names I remember are Metatron and Naomi. I never learned last names.”

 

“Alright,” the detective says, jotting the names down in notebook. “Not sure about Naomi, but Metatron’s a weird enough name. Sure to turn something up. What about where they’re located?”

 

“It’s been a while since I was there. They could be gone now,” Cas says.

 

“Still, doesn’t hurt to check.”

 

Cas nods and he adopts a look of concentration as he tries to remember. They all watch him expectantly, but after a while, Cas simply shakes his head, looking frustrated at himself.

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember much. Just a lot of pain. It’s all...blurry,” he says.

 

“There might be another way. Do you mind if we try something with you? To help you remember?” he asks.

 

Cas looks over at Dean and the hunter nods, reaching out to grip his shoulder.

 

“I’ll be right here the whole time,” he promises. Cas smiles and he thanks Dean quietly before he turns back to the man standing across from them.

 

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally going somewhere and I just finished drafting and editing the last chapter (maybe?), so expect me to put up the rest later if you guys want me to. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, at the time I wrote this, I might have been marathoning the first season of True Detective. Rust was my favorite, even though he was a pessimistic little bastard, but he was awesome. "Detective Cohle" in my fic isn't supposed to be Rust though, I just took his name. So there won't be any pretentious speeches about how the world is a horrible place.


	12. Chapter 12

“So how’s this going to work again?”

 

Dean is sitting with Cas in a cozy room. The blinds are drawn and they’re on the couch with the detective in the chair across from them.

 

“I’m going to have you close your eyes, and you’re going to take me through what happened when you broke out of Metatron’s facility. Every detail counts, especially if it helps in locating them,” he explains.

 

Cas nods in understanding and he takes Dean’s hand before he closes his eyes.

 

“Alright. Just remember, you’re in a safe space, agent. I’m here and so is Agent Smith.”

 

“Okay,” Cas says. “What do I do?”

 

“Let’s go back to that day. Where are you now? Walk me through what happened,” the detective says calmly.

 

“I’m with Naomi...in the labs. And my brother, Ezekiel. He’s lying on the table in front of me.”

 

“Alright. Tell me what you’re feeling. Is it cold? Warm?”

 

“Cold. They always keep it cold down here. I can feel the chill coming from the vent in the ceiling.”

 

“ Alright. And now what happens?”

 

“I pick up a syringe. It’s supposed to have the paralytic in it, but it doesn’t. I...I inject Ezekiel with the drug to make him sick. But Naomi doesn’t know. She’s just standing there, watching me.”

 

Cas keeps his eyes closed and he lets the memory come flooding back to him.

 

_“What are you doing, brother? Why are you letting these people control you?”_

_“I’m sorry, Ezekiel. I have no choice.”_

_Castiel flicks the needle of the syringe and grabs Ezekiel’s arm. Naomi stands across from him, watching carefully. When he hesitates, she glares at him._

_“What are you waiting for?” she asks._

_“R-Right, I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He looks at the angel laid on the table in front of him. He pushes the needle into him and depresses the plunger, watching as the liquid drains from the syringe. He hopes Naomi won’t realize what he’s done until it’s too late._

_He’s sleeping in his cell later that night. Ever since he agreed to cooperate with them, they’d taken off his chains, but they still keep him locked up with the others. Around midnight, the sound of alarms blaring jolts him awake. There’s a voice over the intercom, one he recognizes as Metatron’s telling staff to report to the east wing where they keep the test subjects. Cas uses a little amount of the grace he’s recovered to destroy the lock on the door and steps out into the hallway where the lights are flashing. He runs to the hallway closet and pulls out a large tan coat, pulling it on over his wings to hide them._

_He pads barefoot down the halls, others in white lab coats rushing past him. They don’t even seem to notice the slightly bulky coat or the fact that he’s not headed in the right direction. He looks into each of the windows of rooms along the hall until he comes to the one he knows is Naomi’s office. He busts the door in with his shoulder, ignoring the pain it causes and he yanks open the drawers on her file cabinets. It has to be here somewhere._

_There’s shouting in the hallway and he rushes to shut the door, pressing himself against it until the footsteps recede. Once they’re gone, he continues to go through Naomi’s things. When he yanks open one of the drawers he hears a rattle and inside, he can see silver glinting back at him. He reaches inside and grabs one of the angel blades, yanking it out and turning it over in his hand._

_“What are you doing in here?”_

_He looks up to see Naomi standing in the doorway, hand on the doorknob._

_“I’m leaving,” he snaps._

_“No, you’re not. You’re one of us now,” she says._

_“I will never be one of you.”_

_He lunges forward and shoves her against the bookshelf. He presses the angel knife against her throat and she just stares coldly at him._

_“Go ahead. Prove you’re a monster, just like I always thought.”_

_Cas swallows hard and backs off. She straightens her clothing and smiles at him._

_“I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. You were always my favorite subject, 401,” she says._

_He grits his teeth and shoves the knife into her shoulder. She gasps and her hands come up to grasp at the blade embedded in her._

_“My name is Castiel,” he growls, yanking the knife out and shoving her to the ground before running past the two security guards in the hallway. It takes them a second to act, but once they do, he can hear them chasing after him shouting at him to stop._

_Castiel never realized how big the facility was until it came time to escape. He’d only ever been secluded to one area. Luckily, all he has to do is follow the red exit signs. He pushes open double doors, feet skidding along the floors as he rounds the corner. There’s a flight of stairs going up and he hopes it leads somewhere as he bounds up it and comes to a halt in what looks like a log cabin. It confuses him for a brief moment, but the alarms are still blaring below and he finds the front door, shoving it open and stumbling outside.  He squints, the sun so bright that it soaks everything in white for the time it takes him to adjust. It hurts his eyes, making them water; he’s so used to the darkness in his room, but he doesn’t let it stop him as he makes it to the fence. He uses more of his grace to short out the security system and the gate slides open and he makes his escape out into the forest._

_“Stop him!” he hears. He looks behind him to see the two guards behind him, guns in their hands. The tree in front of him explodes as they shoot and he cries out as he feels a spray of bullets hit his left wing, tearing through the fabric of his coat. He stumbles to his knees but scrambles back to his feet as quickly as he can, desperate to get away._

_He runs for as long as he can handle, until the pain makes his vision swim and he collapses to his hands and knees and vomits what little is left in his stomach. The sun is so bright and he can’t see where he’s going. All he knows is that he can’t stop. He whimpers as he forces himself to his feet, grasping onto trees to steady himself as he stumbles along._

_Cas can hear the drone of traffic as he approaches a road. People are honking at him as he limps across the street and he hears tires screeching, voices shouting. He gasps for breath once he reaches the other side, clinging to a signpost to remain standing. He looks up at it, the white letters on green blurring before him. He doesn’t recognize any of the names there, doesn’t even know where he is and he begins to despair. How awful would it be to escape, only to die of his injuries not even a mile from where they held him._

_Behind him, he can hear a dozen voices talking at once, spurring him into action._

_“Are you okay?” “Are those wings?” “What are you?” “It’s a monster!”_

_Cas shakes his head and pushes forward. Keep going, he thinks to himself. Keep going._

 

Cas opens his eyes, hand gripping Dean’s tightly as he regains his bearings. The detective in the room is watching him carefully, the notepad with Cas’ statement written on it.

 

“There was a sign. It had numbers on it. Names of towns,” Cas says. He watches as the detective writes down what he says before nodding and telling him that once they find the place, they’ll spread out and search for Metatron’s lab.

 

Cas only nods, still shivering and jumpy from the memory he just recalled. Dean notices immediately and wraps his arms around the angel.

 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “It’s okay.”

 

Cas lets out a shaky sigh and Dean kisses his forehead.

 

“Can we go?” Dean asks the detective when he pulls away. Cohle nods, a sympathetic look on his face as Dean leads Cas outside. Sam is waiting for them and he comes to their side when he sees Cas looking shaken.

 

“You okay?”

 

Cas nods and lets out a weak laugh.

 

“I’ve been better,” he manages.

 

“The detective’s gonna look into the names of the towns Cas give him, see if they can find this place. Hopefully they’ll turn something up,” Dean informs him. He combs a hand through Cas’ hair and kisses the side of his head.

 

“You did good, Cas,” he murmurs. “I’m proud of you.”

 

Cas nods and he buries his face in Dean’s shirt.

 

“I’m glad you were there, Dean,” he says.

 

“Where else would I be, sweetheart?” Dean asks.

 

Cas smiles and he turns his head, leaning up to kiss his hunter.

 

“I love you,” he murmurs.

 

“Love you too, Cas,” Dean says, smiling at him, eyes warm and bright. He nods towards the Impala. “Wanna go back to the motel for now?”

 

“Yeah,” Cas sighs.

 

They climb into the Impala, Sam allocated to the backseat for now as they make the drive back to their motel. Cas sits in front, fingers entwined with Dean’s and every so often, he’ll look over at the hunter and smile. Sometimes, Dean catches him at it and smiles back, squeezing his hand before returning his attention to the road.

 

It’s late when they arrive back at their motel, so Dean opts for ordering takeout. It’s nowhere near as good as Dean’s homemade meals, but Cas finds himself enjoying the lo mein despite that. Dean munches on an eggroll while Sam is busy observing Cas eating with the chopsticks the restaurant provided, trying to figure out how he’s doing it so well.

 

When the food is gone and the empty cartons find their way to the trash bin, Dean bids Sam a goodnight and takes Cas to the room next door. They’d checked out two rooms when they arrived for the case, because Dean didn’t want Cas sleeping on the lumpy couch and wasn’t about to share a bed with him while Sam was in the same room. Too much potential for disaster and possible mental scarring on the younger hunter’s behalf.

 

The door shuts behind them and Cas stretches his wings with a yawn. Despite being an angel with his grace now restored, the case has still managed to drain him. Dredging up past memories hasn’t done wonders for him and all he wants is to curl up next to Dean and sleep. He strips down to his boxers and pulls a shirt on before he crawls under the covers. Dean is in the bathroom showering and Cas lets the sound of his off-key singing lull him to sleep.

* * *

 

Cas wakes up the next morning to hear Dean talking in hushed tones on the phone. He rolls over and blinks the sleep from his eyes, watching as Dean paces the room at the foot of the bed.

 

“Alright. Thanks for letting me know. Yeah. Okay, keep us posted,” Dean is saying. He hangs up and then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

 

“Something wrong?” Cas asks. Dean turns and he looks upset before he schools his features into something neutral. He comes over to the bed and sits down, running a hand through Cas’ hair.

 

“Everything’s fine, babe. Go back to sleep. It’s early,” Dean sighs.

 

Cas just shakes his head and sits up, pushing the covers away from him.

 

“Something is troubling you,” he observes. “Whatever it is, I want to help.”

 

“It’s fine, Cas. I’ll tell you later,” Dean replies. He leans in and kisses him gently, urging Cas to lie back down and petting his wings. “I gotta go talk to Sammy. I’ll be in the other room if you need me, okay?”

 

Cas nods and he closes his eyes. He can hear Dean get up again and the door opening and closing as he leaves. Cas focuses his hearing and he can hear Dean’s footsteps outside, the rattling of the pipes as the neighbor on the other side of his room showers. He can hear the ice machine outside whirring and someone arguing with their significant other about what toothpaste to get. He blocks the rest of that out and focuses solely on Sam and Dean in the next room. He hears the hiss of a bottle being opened and he can’t help thinking it’s a bit early for alcohol, even for the Winchesters.

 

“You look like crap,” Sam comments. Cas hears a scoff and some rustling as Dean presumably sits down on the bed. There’s a moment of silence where nobody speaks and Cas figures that means one of them is drinking or they’re trying to figure out what to say.

 

“You would too if you just got the call I did,” he mutters.

 

“What happened? They find something?”

 

“Oh they found something alright. And it’s not good, Sammy.”

 

Sam is quiet for a while and he hears movement, though he can’t discern the cause of it.

 

“What is it?”

 

“They found the place they kept Cas in. Looks like some cozy little cabin on the outside but there’s a whole lower level filled with offices and labs.”

 

“Well that’s good they found it, isn’t it? Did they arrest anyone?”

 

“That’s the problem, man. There was nobody there. Nobody alive, at least.”

 

“What...what’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Cohle says the place stank to high heaven. They found a bunch of bodies. Vamps, werewolves, angels, you name it, they probably found one. All of ‘em dead. Said it looked like no one had been there in months. I think they left once Cas got out. Probably figured he’d find someone and spill all their dirty secrets,” Dean says.

 

“So they have no leads.”

 

“They found a few partial prints, but they don’t know how good they’ll be after so long. The forensic team or whatever is running them now. They’ll get back to us.”

 

“Well, they can’t have gone too far. The most recent body they found is only a few days old, so they must be nearby, right? They wouldn’t want to transport all their equipment and whatnot too far and risk breaking it.”

 

“Hope so. Cohle’s got people canvassing the area around the old place for now. We’ll see if they find anything useful.”

 

They’re quiet for a while and Cas holds his breath, waiting to hear what they’ll say next.

 

“Have you told Cas?” Sam asks eventually.

 

“No. He doesn’t need to hear this,” Dean replies.

 

“He’s going to find out at some point.”

 

“I know, but I just want him to sleep for right now. This case is taking it’s toll on him already and it’s barely been a day, Sam. I just want him to be okay.”

 

“He will be, Dean. As long as you’re there for him, he’ll be fine.”

 

“I hope you’re right.”

 

Dean sighs and Cas hears the mini fridge open and close, a bottle clinking as someone takes it out. It’s quiet again and this time, Cas figures they’re done talking about the case for now. He opens his eyes and simply lies there for a while, staring up at the ceiling blankly. They had found Metatron’s facility, but the only thing there had been the bodies of the subjects that Cas probably drugged and killed. Of course the others would have gone. He knew it was the most likely scenario, yet it still makes him angry. He wants this to be over. He wants the people who hurt him and the other creatures like him to pay for what they did and he wants to go home.

 

He gets up and puts his clothes on before he opens the door and storms outside, frustrated. At what, he’s not sure. Maybe Dean, for keeping the discovery from him. Or maybe at Metatron and the other researchers for being smart enough to move after he escaped. Either way, he needs something to distract him. He spreads his wings and takes flight, hoping that maybe flying for a while will clear his mind. It has in the past.

  
He knows that Dean will probably notice he’s gone once he comes back and he wonders if he should’ve left a note, but he pushes the thought from his mind for now. He cares about Dean, but right now, he wants to be alone. So he flies faster and lets the roaring of the wind whisk away the rest of his thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are liking it so far. Only a few more chapters to go!


	13. Chapter 13

Dean thinks it a bit odd that Cas isn’t in bed where he left him, but he doesn’t worry right away. He probably found that IHOP down the road and decided to take advantage of a fake credit card and never ending pancakes. He decides to head down to the police station to see if he can help out with anything and he leaves Cas a note on the table by the bed before he and Sam get into the Impala.

 

When they get there, they’re greeted almost immediately and led inside the precinct. It seems more lively than the last time and he glances at Sam curiously before looking over at the detective in front of him.

 

“Is it someone’s birthday or something?” he asks, indicating all the bustling officers and other personnel.

 

“Forensics matched the prints to someone. Everyone’s glad we finally got a break,” he explains.

 

Dean blinks in surprise. “That was awfully quick,” he says.

 

“Well when the prints belong to someone who works with you, that tends to happen,” Cohle says. He shakes his head and looks down at the file in his hand. “She’s been right under our nose the whole time. Nobody ever suspects the coroner, huh?”

 

Dean looks at the picture Cohle gives him. It’s the employee file for the medical examiner, though the woman in the picture doesn’t look like the face of some sadistic psychopath. She’s smiling, eyes bright and her red hair pulled back into a neat bun. He reads the text printed on the paper the picture is paperclipped to that identifies the woman as Doctor Naomi Milton.

 

“Agent Novak said one of the people there was named Naomi, right? A few prints at the facility we found came back to her and she’s got the medical knowledge needed to perform the vivisections on the victims.”

 

Dean grits his teeth and shakes his head.

 

“I hope you’ve arrested her,” he says.

 

“We need a warrant. Hopefully the judge will sign for it,” he replies.

 

“Yeah,” Dean grumbles. He kind of wishes they could bypass all this legal crap and question her already, but they’re supposed to be impersonating FBI agents so for the sake of their cover, he knows they can’t just do whatever they want.

 

When the warrant does end up going through for her arrest, Sam stays at the precinct to help Cohle with something and Dean goes with the officers down to the morgue where Naomi is examining one of the bodies they found. Since he’s the one in charge here, being a ‘fed’ and all, he’s the one who has to reign in his anger and calmly clear his throat to get her attention.

 

“Yes?” she says, turning around. She looks surprised at seeing them standing there. “Oh, I wasn’t aware the FBI was being called in on this. Let me know what I can do for you.”

 

“Gladly, Doctor,” he says, forcing a smile. “Actually, I came to ask you some questions about the bodies they found.”

 

She nods and carefully removes the gloves she’s wearing before disposing of them in the wastebin.

 

“That’s what I’m here for,” she says.

 

“At the station, Doctor Milton,” Dean adds. She frowns in confusion and then glances at the officers standing behind him.

 

“Have I done something wrong?” she asks.

 

“We’ll see about that,” one of the officers says.

 

She’s a bit thrown off when they handcuff her but for a split second, Dean sees panic in her eyes, like she’s just now realizing that she might not get away with this. He hides his smile behind a cough and follows the other officers out to the car. The other staff members watch and speak in hushed whispers when they see Naomi being lead away in cuffs.

 

Dean has the officers put her in the back of the Impala and one of them makes a comment about how she really should be riding along with them, but Dean invokes his fake FBI power and insists. The two officers glance at each other and then shrug, both getting into the police car. Dean slides into the Impala and starts her up, pulling out of the parking lot behind the squad car.

 

“I’m sure this is just a big misunderstanding, agent. I’ve done nothing but cooperate with the police on this case,” Naomi says. “If I did this, why would I be helping at all?”

 

“Because you’re so sure you won’t get caught. But guess what? We got your prints all over that place and there’s no way you’re talking your way out of this.”

 

“From what I heard, those prints were partials at best. You really think anyone will convict me when the best you have are partial fingerprints that are months old?” she asks. She scoffs and shakes her head. “I thought the FBI were better at investigating than this.”

 

“Yeah, well you see, lady,” Dean says, turning the steering wheel suddenly and detouring down a side street. He can hear the screech of the police car that he was following stop, probably wondering where he’s going. He looks at her in the rearview mirror and smirks. “I ain’t FBI.”

 

He steps on the gas and turns another corner, checking his mirrors to make sure the cops aren’t following him. After more twists and turns that even Dean himself would have difficulty following, he finally heads down the main road out of town and turns onto the path that leads to the quaint looking cabin that’s bigger on the inside. He parks the car somewhere she won’t be seen from the road and he gets out, opening the back door and tugging Naomi out with a rough hand. She’s wearing heels, so she stumbles on the uneven terrain, but Dean keeps pushing her forward until they come to a rusted gate marked private property. The cabin is further in and at first glance it just looks like it could be some recluse’s summer home. But when he gets inside and shoves aside the crime scene tape, he can tell something is off about it.

 

Just like Cohle said, it smells like death. It’s a smell Dean is used to, but that doesn’t make it any more pleasant as he trudges down a flight of stairs hidden in what looks like a closet. Below, there are linoleum floors and burned out fluorescent lights along the ceiling. Even in the darkness, the walls are a stark white color that reminds him of a hospital. Or a morgue.

 

“They’re going to find you and arrest you for impersonating a federal agent,” Naomi says, glaring at him as he shoves her down the hallway in front of them.

 

“Not before they find your body in pieces” he says, giving her his most charming smile. He can see it unsettles her a bit and he gives her another shove.

 

“I don’t even know what-”

 

“Save it, bitch. I know who you are and what you did,” he snaps, taking her by the shoulder and slamming her into the wall. “You thought you’d get away with it, didn’t you?”

 

She stares at him coldly before a smile of her own appears. She tuts at him like a disappointed school teacher and shakes her head.

 

“You’re a hunter,” she says. “What I don’t get is why so many of you are against what we do. After all, it gets monsters off the streets. You should be jumping at the chance to get paid for what you do. Others have.”

 

“I’m not going to sell innocent creatures to you so you can torture them,” he snaps. “That’s not what hunting is.”

 

“Torture is such a harsh word. What we do isn’t torture. It’s scientific in nature. We’re trying to better understand these so called ‘innocent’ creatures. Haven’t you ever wondered why a werewolf only turns during certain times in the lunar cycle? Or what makes an angel immortal? These are all things that our organization seeks to figure out.”

 

“What you’re doing isn’t scientific. It’s sadistic and cruel. Doing a fucking vivisection on an angel is _not_ science.”

 

She raises an eyebrow and gives him a once over before smiling again.

 

“So it would seem you know Castiel,” she says. “He was the only angel we ever did that to. We didn’t find out what made him immortal, but we did figure out a lot of other things. It seems angels are more like machines that one would think. Insert a few needles into their brain and they can be hacked, rewritten. Castiel was always more difficult to control than the others, but he was good while it lasted. He was my obedient little pet for some time. Such potential. It’s a shame we lost him.”

 

Dean feels like he might be sick. Cas told him about what he did, but from what he’s gathering now, he might not have even been himself when he was playing doctor with Naomi. _Insert a few needles into their brain and they can be hacked, rewritten._ Dean is suddenly struck with the image of his poor Castiel lying paralyzed in some chair while this red haired bitch stabs needles into his brain. No wonder Cas screams so loud when he has nightmares.

 

“Oh,” Naomi says, drawing his attention back to her. She’s looking at him with a bit of surprise, maybe even disgust. “You’ve...become attached to him. At least tell me you haven’t had sex with that winged freak. Even someone like you wouldn’t stoop so low, I hope.”

 

Dean snarls and he grabs her by the throat, slamming her back into the wall and listening to her choke.

 

“Don’t you _ever_ talk about Cas like that. I should snap your neck right here and now for what you did to him,” he growls, squeezing harder. She grasps at his hands and kicks at his shins, but not with nearly enough force to stop him. Unfortunately, much as Dean would love to kill this woman and leave her to rot, he still needs to find the others. There could be more people like Cas, being tortured somewhere by some other psychopath.

 

Naomi gasps and coughs once he lets go of her. As she’s trying to catch her breath, Dean grabs her and tugs her along to one of the rooms he finds. If he’s going to get any information out of her, he’s going to take his time doing it. As painfully as possible.

 

The room he ends up in has a few working lights and it casts Naomi in a sickly pale yellow as he shuts the door behind him. There’s a cell in the room, one that reminds Dean of that time he and Sam had to help Decan with that ghost in his jail. But now he can’t help but picture Cas inside the cell, wings cramped in the small space and arms and legs chained to the wall. His anger is close to boiling over again and he only just manages to not beat Naomi into a bloody pulp.

 

He takes out a knife instead, twirling it round and round in his fingers as he paces in front of Naomi. He stops, gripping the handle of the knife before he looks at her expectantly.

 

“Tell me where the others are, and maybe I’ll give you a quick death,” he says.

 

“You’re going to kill me either way, so why would I bother giving you anything?”

 

“Because if you don’t,” Dean says, backing her into the corner. “I’m going to do to you what you did to Cas. So talk.”

 

“You don’t scare me,” she scoffs.

 

“I should,” Dean warns. Before she can react, he grabs her arms and pins them to the wall before stabbing the knife through her left palm, trapping her there with her arms above her head and blood dripping down onto her gray blouse. She lets out a piercing shriek that grates on Dean’s ears and he tilts his head to the side, looking down at her with a grin.

 

“Ready to talk yet?” he asks.

 

She grits her teeth and kicks out at him, but he steps out of her reach easily.

 

“Go to hell,” she snaps.

  
  
“Funny,” Dean says, chuckling to himself. “‘Cause that’s exactly where you’re going.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I _really_ don’t like Naomi? I mean, as much as I hate Metatron, he did one good thing in killing her. Like, even if she was right about Metatron deceiving Cas and about Sam and the trials, I still can't forgive her for what she did to Cas.


	14. Chapter 14

“Have you seen Dean?” Sam asks when Cas returns from his flight.

 

He’d seen the note in the motel about them going back to the station, so that’s where he finds the younger Winchester now, confused and concerned without his brother. Cas shakes his head, wondering if maybe Dean got hungry and went out for lunch. It is that time of the day.

 

“He went to the morgue with a few officers to bring in our suspect and on the way back, he ditched the squad car. Nobody can find him, which is weird since that car he’s got is pretty damn noticeable,” Cohle says.

 

Cas tries not to worry and he looks at Sam, hoping maybe he’ll have some answers as to where his brother could have gone. When Sam tells him that the suspect they were going to bring in is Naomi, he feels the color drain out of his face. He didn’t think they’d find her so quickly. His first thought is to find Dean and get him away from her. She could hurt him too and he couldn’t live with himself if he allowed that. He needs to find them.

 

“If Agent Smith is as close to you as I think he is, he probably took her somewhere he can force her to talk without drawing attention to them,” Cohle says. He shrugs. “It’s what I’d do if anyone ever hurt my wife. Figure your husband’s no different.”

 

Cas flushes at the assumption that he and Dean are married but Sam starts talking and he doesn’t get the chance to correct the detective. Sam eventually asks to use one of their computers so he can track the GPS on Dean’s phone, muttering to himself and wondering why he didn’t think of it in the first place. They wait a minute or two for the website to locate it and on the map it just looks like the middle of nowhere to Cas.

 

“Where is that?” Sam asks, pointing. Detective Cohle leans over and he sighs when he sees the area Sam is indicating.

 

“That’s the crime scene, where we found the bodies,” he says. Sam looks over at Cas, probably expecting him to be confused about this ‘new’ evidence but Cas just shakes his head.

 

“I already know,” he says. “We should go now. Give me your hand, Sam.”

 

“What?”

 

“Driving will take much too long. We need to get there now,” he explains. Without further ado, he grabs Sam and expends a small amount of his grace to aid in his flying. It takes him perhaps a second to materialize with the hunter outside the place he saw on the map. He can see Dean’s car parked nearby and he shoves down the apprehension he feels at walking back into the place of his nightmares.

 

He can see the gate in the distance and the sight of it makes his stomach twist itself into knots. Every instinct he has is telling him to turn and run in the other direction, but he steels himself and pushes forward. _I need to find Dean_ , he thinks. _I can’t run away._

 

Sam sees his distress and reaches out to pat his shoulder.

 

“You okay?” he asks.

 

“No. Let’s just get this over with,” he answers gruffly. Sam nods in agreement and he shoves the gate open, Cas following behind him. Sam opens the door once they reach the cabin and Cas can’t help thinking that it doesn’t look as intimidating now as he once thought. At least, that’s before he goes inside, back down into the darkness. He’s shaking and he can feel his throat starting to close up, making it hard to breath even though there’s plenty of oxygen downstairs.

 

“Cas, you can go back if you need to,” Sam says, flicking on his flashlight. It helps calm Cas’ nerves some and he swallows past the lump in his throat.

 

“I can do this,” he manages. He wipes his sweaty hands on his pants and follows Sam further into facility. The rooms are all rundown now, but Cas still remembers his way around. They check all the rooms on the staff’s side of the compound before turning towards the area where they kept all the creatures locked up in their cells. Cas’ heart is pounding so loudly Sam can probably hear it and he feels like the walls are crushing him. His vision is swimming and he feels lightheaded, like he’s been on a spinning carnival ride for much too long. He tries to breathe but it feels like the oxygen is choking him.

 

“Cas?” Sam’s voice sounds far away and it’s coming from somewhere above Cas, above the height that Sam is supposed to be. That’s when Cas notices he’s on the ground now, arms wrapped tightly around himself as memories threaten to assault him. It’s so dark and everything is too close and he can’t breathe.

 

“Dean,” he croaks out, automatically seeking out his beloved to help him. Dean will save him, he knows it. He always does. “Dean, where are you?”

 

Someone swears out loud. It sounds like Sam. There’s footsteps that are too loud and he covers his ears, closes his eyes and hopes maybe that’s enough to ground himself. He can hear voices from far away, muffled like they’re in another room. He hears Sam, Dean, and a cold female voice that sounds like she’s in pain. But Cas recognizes it like he would his own name and he knows that she’s here. Naomi’s here and she’s going to hurt him again.

 

“Dean? Where are you? _Dean!_ ” he shouts, hoping that maybe the hunter will hear him. He reaches around in the dark, trying to find his way back to his feet. He slides his hands along the walls and eventually, he opens his eyes again. He can see a shape coming out of the cell down the hall. _That was Muriel’s cell_ , Cas thinks absently. The figure approaches him quickly and it takes the form of Dean, covered in blood but thankfully unharmed.

 

“Baby, what are you doing here?” Dean asks, taking Cas’ trembling hands. He helps lower Cas to the ground where he can sit again, no longer standing on wobbly legs.

 

“Sam said you were gone. And then the detective said something about Naomi. I had to find you, Dean. She’s bad. She’s very bad, beloved. I couldn’t let her hurt you.”

 

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Dean assures him. He sits down next to Cas and wraps an arm around the angel’s heaving shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just breathe with me, okay? In and out.”

 

Cas nods and he tries to breath like Dean is, but it’s not helping much. He still feels like he could pass out any second. He clings to Dean instead and asks him to sing. It’s a strange request, he knows, but Dean’s off key voice keeps him here, keeps the bad things away and eventually he feels like he can breath again. He’s still shaking and he nearly falls back down when he tries to stand up, but he doesn’t feel nearly as bad as he did before.

 

“Come here, sweetheart,” Dean murmurs, wrapping an arm around Cas’ middle to support him. Cas stumbles outside into the light with him and he squints at the sun, nearly as bright as it was the day he escaped. Dean takes him to the car and he sheds his bloody jacket, tossing it into the trunk before he gets into the backseat with Cas.

 

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Cas says once he’s composed himself somewhat. “I thought I could handle this. I thought for sure that I was over this, but I guess I was wrong. I’m still a coward.”

 

“No you aren’t, Cas,” Dean mumbles, combing his feathers. “Anyone would have freaked after what you’ve been through. Besides, that place is creepy enough to begin with.”

 

Cas just nods, even though he doesn’t believe Dean. He buries his nose in Dean’s shirt and even under the metallic stench of blood, he can still smell Dean - whiskey and the Impala and home. He sighs contently and closes his eyes, letting Dean’s heartbeat calm him down more.

 

“I hate to tell you this, Cas, but you do know we still need her, right? We can’t find Metatron unless she’s alive to talk,” Dean says. Cas nods. He knows that they can’t kill her right away, much as either of them wish they could. Dean murmurs an apology and strokes his wing, kissing the top of his head. They sit there waiting in the car until Dean informs him that Sam is coming out with Naomi in tow. She still has her handcuffs on, since Dean wasn’t too inclined to release her and neither was Sam apparently. Dean assures him that she won’t be able to hurt him and Cas swallows hard, still not sure if he believes that.

 

“I haven’t seen her in so long, Dean. I don’t know what to do,” he whispers.

 

“Sam’s going to drive us, okay? You just sit in the back with me and ignore anything she says to you,” Dean tells him.

 

“I’ll try,” he says eventually.

 

The door squeaks as it opens and he can hear Sam’s voice outside as he urges Naomi into the car.

 

“You hunters are savages. I told you what you wanted to know. Why don’t you let me go?” she says, voice labored with pain.

 

“Because until we know you’re telling the truth, you’re not going anywhere,” Sam replies. He starts up the car and Cas can feel them moving. Dean has an arm around him protectively but it doesn’t stop Naomi from noticing him.

 

“Castiel, you look well,” she says. “I would say I almost didn’t recognize you, but it’s hard to miss those monstrosities you call wings, isn’t it?”

 

“Ignore her,” Dean murmurs, combing a hand through Cas’ hair. “She’s just trying to upset you.”

 

“And you,” Naomi says, likely now directing her words at Dean. “I still don’t understand how you could love something so awful. Maybe you just don’t know what he’s done. Maybe he hasn’t told you exactly how he escaped.”

 

“Cas told me everything. And I still love him, so you can shut the hell up,” Dean snaps.

 

“Aren’t you the trusting one. And you know Castiel isn’t lying to you because?”

 

“Because he isn’t. And I'll believe him before I believe anything that comes out of your mouth," Dean says.

 

"Such a shame, that you'd take the word of a monster over your own kind."

 

Dean doesn't reply to her, instead runs a hand through Cas' hair and murmurs soothing words to him. Cas tilts his head up for a kiss and sighs when he feels Dean's warm lips on his own.

 

"You know I love you, right?" he asks when they pull away. Cas nods and Dean smiles at him, kissing his forehead and hugging him tightly.

 

Cas finds it a lot easier to ignore Naomi's insults as long as Dean is there and before long, Sam interrupts the red haired woman's rant to demand directions to Metatron's new location. She grudgingly gives up the information and after a few minutes, they pull into a parking lot for what used to be a sanatorium. The building is covered in moss and ivy and looks like it hasn't been inhabited in years. But it's secluded and that's good enough for what they're looking for. They get out of the Impala and Sam comes around to the passenger side and pulls the door open.

 

"Get out," Sam says. Naomi glares up at him and he sighs before reaching in and grabbing her by the shoulder. He presses a gun to her back and shoves her forward. "Move."

 

She stumbles forward and Cas notices that she's limping too. He can't help but wonder just what Sam and Dean did to get her to reveal her secrets. She looks awful, her clothes stained red and her face pale with the loss of blood. Cas feels a sickening amount of joy at seeing her in this state and he wonders if that makes him a monster like she said. He's an angel; he shouldn't enjoy seeing a human suffer so much, even one as bad as Naomi.

 

"You alright, Cas?" Dean asks as they approach the old building.

 

"I'm fine," he replies. "Just...does it make me a bad person if I enjoy seeing her hurt?"

 

Dean stares at him and for a brief moment, Cas thinks he's going to say yes. But Dean only shakes his head and pats Cas on the shoulder.

 

"No, it doesn't, babe. She did horrible things to you. It's only natural that you'd feel that way."

 

Cas nods and directs his attention back to the brown double doors at the top of the steps. Naomi pushes them open with some effort and there's a man in a white coat standing just inside with his back to them.

 

"Hey," Sam says, pointing his gun at the guy. He turns around and his eyes widen when he takes in the sight of Naomi and the three of them. Sam gestures with the gun. "Where's Metatron?"

 

"Sir, I don't know-"

 

"Don't play dumb, man. Bad idea," Dean advises. He takes his own gun out and Cas jumps when he shoots it. Naomi doesn't even make a sound and she falls to the floor with a bullet in her head.

 

"So unless you wanna end up like her, I'd suggest you tell us what we want to know," he says, smiling at the man.

 

“D-Down the hall, door at the end,” he stammers out. Dean glances at Sam and nods. Sam lowers his gun and the man sighs with relief. Dean looks down the hallway where Metatron’s office should be and then he glances over at Cas, a silent question hanging in the air between them. Cas nods; he’s ready this time.

 

He follows Dean down the hall and Sam stays behind to make sure the guy in the foyer doesn’t try anything funny. Cas can hear a brief struggle before someone lands a punch and there’s a _thump_ as something hits the floor. Sam comes up behind him a moment later and Dean raises an eyebrow.

 

“He won’t be a problem,” Sam explains. Dean grins and they continue down the hall. Once they reach the door at the end, they pause. Cas can pick up the sound of typing and Metatron's voice talking to someone.

 

Dean doesn't wait and kicks the door open. It slams as it hits the wall and Cas sees Metatron sitting behind a desk, talking to a younger man.

 

"I swear, we need to get a better security system," Metatron says with a shake of his head.

 

"I'd say you got a lot more to worry about than that," Dean grouses. The other guy starts to scurry away and Dean points his gun at him, snapping, "I don't think so, buddy."

 

"Look man, I'm just his secretary. I mean, basically. I haven't done anything," he says. Metatron glares at him.

 

"Thanks for the show of support, Neil," he says, rolling his eyes. He looks at Dean and shakes his head. "It's so hard to find good help these days. Does nobody value loyalty anymore?"

 

Metatron glances over to where Cas is standing and he smiles.

 

“Well it would seem Castiel does. You came back after all,” he says. “I was wondering when you’d see sense. Surely you can forgive me for what happened to you. I never did anything that wasn’t necessary to help you understand what is is we’re doing here.”

 

“You shut up,” Cas growls, storming over to the desk and shoving it aside. Metatron’s eyes widen a bit behind his rimmed glasses and Cas hefts him up and slams him into the bookcase behind him. He lets go and keeps the man pinned there with his grace while he takes out his angel blade.

 

“You wouldn’t kill me, Castiel. You don’t have it in you.”

 

“No? I’ve killed countless humans in the name of God. What makes you think one more will make any difference?” he asks, pressing the tip of the blade under Metatron’s chin.

 

“If you’re really that upset about it, why don’t you go find Naomi and take it out on her.”

 

“Been there, done that,” Dean says. He smirks. “Looks like it’s just you now.”

 

If Metatron is shocked by the news that Naomi is dead, he doesn’t show it. Instead he just sighs.

 

“You know, it’s really difficult to find people willing to do what we do. The process we have to go through to hire them, it’s so tedious,” he says.

 

“I believe that is the least of your worries right now, Metatron,” Cas growls. He can feel rage threatening to boil over in him and the only thing stopping him from tearing Metatron apart right now is Sam and Dean standing there, watching him.

 

“Sam, Dean, I would prefer you not to see this,” he says. Dean stares at him for a moment and Cas wonders what he must be thinking. He knows that Dean knows how powerful he is, but for as long as they’ve known each other, he’s never seen it for himself. Even Sam had only gotten a glimpse of the true extent of Cas’ power during that case with the vampires.

 

“You should go find the creatures they’re holding captive,” Cas adds. Giving them something to do seems to spur them into action and Dean nods at him before he drags Metatron’s lackey out of the room, Sam following behind them. The door shuts and Cas turns back to Metatron.

 

“You’re going to regret this, Castiel,” Metatron warns.

 

Cas only smiles and shakes his head.

 

“No, Metatron. I don’t think I will.” 


	15. Chapter 15

When Sam and Dean find the cells where Metatron and his cronies are holding various supernatural creatures captive, Dean seriously contemplates never hunting again. He never thought that he’d actually look at a rougarou of all things and feel sad. But the creature looking at him is a far cry from the cannibalistic monster he’s used to. Despite the smell and its desiccated skin, it looks like it could barely hurt a fly. Dean’s never seen one so timid and docile, flinching away from them when Sam tries the door that’s locked tightly.

 

There are others too. Dean sees werewolves that are somehow stuck in their wolf form and they whine pathetically, clawing at the walls of their cell and tugging uselessly on the silver chains that have burned their skin almost down to the bone. A vampire looks up at him with glassy eyes, blinking slowly like he can’t see clearly, possibly drugged with dead man’s blood. Dean sees another angel, her wings shredded much like Cas’ were when they first met him. She’s so tiny that aside from her wings, she barely takes up any space in her already small cell.

 

Sam swears under his breath and Dean can’t help nodding in agreement.

 

“We gotta get these guys outta here,” Dean says.

 

“You’re telling me,” Sam replies. They set about searching for keys to unlock the doors, since there’s no way they can open them with force alone. Dean tries asking the creatures if they know where the key is, but some of them don’t seem to understand and others ignore him.

 

“Hey, we’re here to help you,” Dean says. The shapeshifter he’s talking to just shakes her head and shivers like it’s cold. He turns to the werewolf in the next cell over and tries again.

 

“Can you understand me?” Dean asks. The werewolf blinks at him and Dean figures that he’s listening. “We’re trying to get you guys out. But we need keys.”

 

“Keys?” the werewolf echoes.

 

“Yeah. To unlock the doors. Do you know where they might be?”

 

“Keys,” the werewolf repeats, shaking his head. “No. Don’t know.”

 

“It’s alright. We’re gonna get you outta here soon, man. Just don’t worry.”

 

“Okay," he says, and goes back to pacing his tiny cell, muttering nonsense to himself. The hunter sighs and he looks over at Sam, who he hopes is doing a better job. Sam is crouched down in front of one of the cells and Dean can see a pale arm sticking out through the bars, holding his brother’s hand.

 

“It’s okay,” Sam says. He smiles and Dean can see his thumb stroking the back of the other person’s hand. “You’re going to be okay. We need your help though.”

 

Dean comes closer and peeks into the cell. There’s a vampire sitting on the other side, watching Sam with wide eyes.

 

“What’s your name?” Sam asks. She stares at him like he just asked her to recite all the digits of pi and Sam patiently asks his question again until she understands.

 

“L-Lenore.”

 

“Okay. Lenore, can you help me?”

 

She nods shakily and Sam smiles.

 

“Good. Now, I’m going to get you out of this cell, okay? But you gotta help me find the keys. I can’t open the door myself.”

 

“The...the keys. To the doors?”

 

Sam nods.

 

“Um,” Lenore looks down at where she’s holding Sam’s hand. “There’s a man. He comes down to take one of us, every day. He has them.”

 

“Do you know where he goes?”

 

She points with her other hand to a door with a number pad at the far end of the room.

 

“He takes us that way. There are...bad places that way. I hear them...screaming every night. It’s so loud.”

 

Lenore’s lip trembles like she might start crying and Sam soothes her, rubbing her hand.

 

“Hey, hey it’s okay. We’re gonna get you out. Then you don’t have to hear it anymore.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“I promise,” Sam says.

 

Sam starts to get up and she grabs at his hand. Her claws cut him up a bit and Sam winces.

 

“Don’t leave,” she pleads.

 

“I’ll be right back. I swear,” Sam assures her. She looks up at him like she doesn’t believe him but eventually, she nods and lets go of him. Dean starts to walk away and Sam follows. Lenore watches them from behind the bars of her cell, eyes filled with what Dean thinks is hope.

 

When they get to the door, it won’t open. Luckily, the only thing stopping them is the keypad next to the door. Dean feels a bit bad for spooking all the creatures in their cells when he shoots the mechanism to the door. But in the long run, it’ll help them and Dean hears a click before he simply pulls the door open. There’s a long hallway on the other side and several doors that need a card to gain access to the room.

 

“Who the hell are you?”

 

Dean turns to see some guy exiting the door opposite the one they just came through. There’s a lanyard around his neck with an identification card clipped to it and before the man can react, Dean is grabbing hold of him and ripping the lanyard off. Sam whips the gun across the guy’s face and he goes down, knocked unconscious. Sam and Dean drag him into the room he came out of and from what Dean can tell, this room is used to monitor the creatures in the next room. He can see Lenore on one of the many cameras, and the shapeshifter and the werewolf he talked to. Hanging on a hook on the far end of the room is a keyring. Dean grabs it and tosses it to Sam.

 

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asks.

 

“You go get them out of here. I’m going to check out these other rooms, see if there’s anyone else that needs help,” Dean replies.

 

He takes the lanyard with the keycard in hand and after Sam disappears into the other room, he starts down the hallway. Most of the rooms are empty for the moment. Some look like a set out of a horror movie, with machines and contraptions that do God knows what and rolling tables with scalpels, pliers, syringes and anything else that looks like it could be used to poke and prod at these defenseless creatures. Other rooms are set up like a hospital room, with heart monitors and IV drips and cabinets filled with drugs Dean can’t pronounce the name of. His heart aches at the thought of Cas being taken to one of these rooms and pumped full of drugs, picked apart by people who don’t care if they’re hurting him in their so called quest for knowledge.

 

Dean finds one of the rooms is occupied. There’s a man wearing a mask over his mouth like a surgeon might and on the table in front of him is a German Shepherd dog. Dean figures it must be a skinwalker. The man looks up and before he can ask what Dean is doing here, the hunter shoots him in the stomach. The green scrubs he’s wearing quickly turn red as he bleeds through the material and Dean comes over, shooting him again in the chest before he opens the restraints on the dog’s legs.

 

“It’s okay, boy. I’m here to help,” Dean tells the skinwalker. The dog only whines and Dean realizes that even though the restraints are gone, he won’t move. Or maybe can’t move. Dean slides his arms under the dog gently and lifts him up. He carries him down the hallway and he finds Sam opening up the last few cells, helping the creatures out of their chains.

 

“That all of them?” Dean asks. Sam nods as he frees the rougarou Dean saw before.

 

As Dean carries the skinwalker in his arms outside, he can’t help wonder what they’re going to do with everybody. There’s no way they’re all staying at the bunker, but Dean feels bad just abandoning them in the middle of nowhere. He wonders what these creatures will do now. If they’ll go back to whatever they were doing before they were captured. He finds himself hoping that they find something better, something like Cas has now.

 

There’s a small group gathered outside the building, crowded around Dean’s car. None of them seem to know what to do with their newfound freedom. But Dean notices that they seem to be sticking together, despite their differences. Lenore is helping a werewolf bandage up the burns on his wrist with the gauze Sam provided from the first aid kit in the Impala. The shapeshifter that was so cold before is huddling with the angel for warmth and the rougarou, instead of eating someone, is helping along another vampire that’s been affected by dead man’s blood.

 

“What now?” Sam asks.

 

“I don’t know,” Dean replies honestly, setting the skinwalker down gently. One of the werewolves comes up to him and starts petting the dog’s fur in a gesture of comfort. Dean glances over at the rundown building and wonders what Cas is doing now. He hopes he’s getting in a few good punches at Metatron for them.

 

“Sam?”

 

They turn to see Lenore standing next to Sam, looking impossibly tiny compared to Sam’s height and build.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Thank you,” she says, smiling. She hugs Sam and he seems surprised, but he lets her hold him and even places a hand on her back.

 

“So,” Sam says when she pulls away. “What are you going to do now?”

 

“I’m not sure yet. My nest is probably looking for me, if they’re still out there. I guess I could go back. Maybe...maybe I’ll take the rest of them with me,” she says, looking over at the group of traumatized creatures. “I think it’ll help, belonging to something.”

 

“Good,” Sam says, smiling at her. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“Hey, if you need anything,” Dean adds, taking out one of the fake FBI cards he always keeps on him, “You call us, okay?”

 

Lenore takes his card and examines it curiously.

 

“You’re FBI?” she asks

 

“No,” Sam says with a laugh. “Just pretending. But those numbers are real. If you call them, you’ll reach us.”

 

“Okay. Thank you, again,” she says, holding the card like it’s something precious. She walks over to the rest of the group and talks to each of them gently. Dean can see that some of them are reluctant, but after a while, Lenore manages to change their minds. By the time he sees Cas come out of the building, covered in blood but unharmed, she has most of the group willing to go with her to find her nest.

 

“Cas, what happened?” Sam asks, eyeing the blood all over Cas with wide eyes.

 

“It’s not my blood,” Cas replies. He snaps his fingers and in the next second, he’s clean. He turns to the rest of them and even though he’s in much better condition than all of them, some seem to recognize him. They calm at the sound of his voice, reassuring them that they’re safe now, that nobody will hurt them anymore.

 

“Castiel?” the angel speaks up, her voice surprised and relieved. “You lived after all. I didn’t know...after you left...”

 

Cas just smiles sadly and walks over to her, placing a hand on her cheek. Light flows through him and the angel’s wings start to fill out again, feathers growing rapidly and the pained expression disappears from her face.

 

“Hello, Hannah,” he says. “I’m sorry I left you behind. I should have rescued you.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” she replies, stretching her wings now that they’ve recovered. “You made it out. You gave the rest of us hope.”

 

“Not all of you,” Cas admits quietly. “The others...I’m sorry, Hannah. I should never have done what I did.”

 

“It was necessary,” she assures him. “You assessed the situation and determined the best solution given what was available to you. I would have done the same.”

 

Cas lets out a sigh and Hannah hugs him. Dean smiles at the sight and when Cas pulls away, Hannah looks over at him curiously. Cas walks over to him and takes his hand, kissing his cheek before turning to his sister.

 

“Is this man your mate?” Hannah asks.

 

“Not...not quite,” Cas replies, pink filling his cheeks. “But Dean is very dear to me.”

 

“Hey,” Dean says in greeting, nodding his head at the other angel.

 

“Hello,” she replies, watching him like he’s something confusing and interesting at the same time. Eventually, she nods in approval and smiles softly. “You have a very beautiful soul. I can see why Castiel is drawn to you.”

 

Dean flushes at the angel’s words. He’s never given it much thought but he always seems to forget that angels can see human souls. Cas is always staring at him like he’s a work of art and Dean never put two and two together, but now he supposes it makes a little more sense. Still, he finds it a bit hard to believe that his soul is as amazing as these two say it is.

 

“Thanks, I guess,” Dean says, a tiny bit bashful as he shrugs his shoulders. Hannah smiles at him and it’s quiet but for the chattering of the rest of the creatures as they watch the exchange curiously.

 

“What will you do now, Hannah? Return to Heaven?” Cas asks. Hannah shakes her head.

 

“I think I’ll help the rest of them,” she says, glancing over at the group. “After the time we spent in there...we’ve grown close. I want things to remain that way.”

 

Cas nods in understanding and approval.

 

“Recovery takes a while. I...I still have trouble, sometimes. But it helps, having someone there for you,” Cas replies, looking at Dean when he says it. He turns his gaze back to the other angel. “I believe sticking together is the best course of action for all of you.”

 

Hannah nods and they part ways after that. Dean watches in the rearview as they drive away. Hannah and Lenore wave at them and the rest of the group watches them, some smiling, others waving goodbye as well. Dean finds that he’s glad everything is going to work out for them. After everything they’ve been through, they more than deserve the same happiness that Cas has with them.

 

“What happened to Metatron?” Sam asks after they’ve been on the road for a while. It’s getting dark out and Dean is tired, but he makes himself focus on driving until they get home.

 

“He’s never going to hurt anyone ever again. Nor is anyone else in that building.” Cas says. He doesn’t say anything else on the matter and they leave it at that. Dean turns the radio on to fill the silence and it’s still tuned to the classical station Cas left it on when he last rode in the Impala. He doesn't even bother changing it and lets the sound of Beethoven flow out of the speakers.

 

When they finally arrive home, their moods are considerably lighter. Cas is laughing and smiling at a joke Sam is telling him and Dean even cracks a tired grin, glad that his angel is happy and safe with him. They head inside and Dean insists on cooking a celebratory dinner. Sam and Cas chop onions and tomatoes for burger toppings and Dean mixes together just the right amount of seasoning into the ground beef before he forms them into patties that go onto the grill in the kitchen. Cas comes to watch after he finishes with his task of chopping veggies and he inhales the smell of cooking meat with a happy smile on his face. Dean laughs at the sight and wraps an arm around him as he flips Cas’ burger expertly.

 

After everything is done cooking, they sit down to eat and Dean has to remind himself that Cas is an angel and that he probably won’t die from scarfing down a double cheeseburger with the works in under three minutes. Sam just seems amused by the angel’s sudden ravenous appetite and Dean thinks it’s nice that someone appreciates his cooking so much.

 

“Someone was hungry,” Dean comments when Cas finishes and licks the grease off his fingers.

 

“Yes well, your food is hard to resist,” Cas says. He smiles and that’s when Dean notices the ketchup on the corner of his lips.

 

“You got something-” Dean gestures to his face and Cas, predictably, brushes his napkin along the wrong side. Dean rolls his eyes and he leans in to wipe away the sauce. Sam is watching them and he pretends to gag when he sees them. Cas blushes and Dean laughs, telling Sam that he should be grateful he didn’t lick it off Cas’ lips instead. He was sorely tempted, too.

 

They clean up shortly after the ketchup incident and Dean takes Cas’ hand and leads them to the rec room where Sam waves a box set of DVDs that he grabbed from the movie cabinet, a huge grin on his face.

 

“Guess who sent us the fifth season of _Game of Thrones_ before we left?” he says.

 

“Who?” Cas asks, oblivious as always.

 

“Charlie!” Sam exclaims. “And it’s actually high quality too, for being illegally downloaded.”

 

“Well what are you waiting for Sammy? Let’s get this show on the road!”

 

They marathon about four episodes before Dean starts getting sleepy. Cas is curled up on the couch they’re sharing, his head resting in Dean’s lap. The hunter is pretty sure part of his problem is that he’s been brushing Cas’ hair while they watch. The angel’s hair is so soft and it’s so easy to lose himself in the feel of it. Sometimes he even loses track of the show and Sam has to pause and go back just so they can watch again.

 

“Alright, that’s it. Time for bed,” Sam declares when Dean dozes off again. He cuts off the fifth episode ten minutes in, much to Cas’ protest. He says something about how he can stay up and watch the rest while Sam and Dean go to sleep, but Cas is a blabber mouth sometimes and neither of them want to risk spoilers.

 

“Sorry, Cas. But I’m beat,” Dean yawns. He can feel several joints pop when he stands up and stretches. Cas just pouts up at him and even tucks his wings in like he’s sad. Dean would normally buy into it right away, but he can hardly keep his eyes open.

 

“Go to sleep, Dean,” Sam tells him. The younger hunter yawns too. “We both need it.”

 

Dean nods and pads to his room with Cas on his tail. Dean flops onto the bed without even bothering to take his jacket or shoes off. Cas stares at him with a mixture of adoration and confusion.

 

“Are you really so tired you can’t undress?” Cas asks curiously.

 

Dean knows that Cas wouldn’t understand the concept of flirting if it ran him over with a truck, but he smiles anyway.

 

“Well, Cas, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to sneak in some late night fun before bed,” he says, winking.

 

“Fun? What are you talking about?” Cas says, squinting like maybe if he narrows his eyes enough he’ll be able to understand better.

 

“I’m talking about the sexy kind of fun,” Dean says, smirking.

 

“Oh,” Cas states. He blushes suddenly as he realizes and he looks down at his socked feet. “You mean intercourse.”

 

Dean’s laugh is both parts amusement and a bit of loopiness due to the fact that it’s three in the morning and he’s so tired he could probably sleep until the next apocalypse.

 

“Yeah, Cas. But don’t call it ‘intercourse’. It’s sex,” he says.

 

“Right,” Cas murmurs, cheeks growing ever pinker. “I-I don’t...I mean....well...”

 

Dean laughs again and tugs Cas down to him, the angel’s wings fanning out above them.

 

“It’s okay, babe. I’m too tired to do anything anyway,” he says. He leans up and pecks Cas on the nose before he rolls to the side of the bed and sits up. He unlaces his boots and tosses them to the corner of the room before he sheds his jacket and his overshirt. He unbuckles his belt and slides it through the loops and then slides his jeans over his hips before he tosses them in the general direction of the laundry hamper. He turns to look at Cas and spreads his now bare arms.

 

“Better?” he asks, now clad in just a t-shirt and his boxers.

 

“I wasn’t saying you had to-”

 

“I know, Cas. I’m just giving you grief,” he says, smiling. He lies down and waits until Cas joins him before he throws an arm over the angel and places a hand on his chest, feeling the heart beating underneath. He kisses the back of Cas’ neck and smiles into his skin.

 

“Night, angel.”

 

Cas’ feathers flutter and tickle Dean’s chest and arms as the angel gets settled. He brings up a hand and clasps it with Dean’s.

 

“Good night, beloved.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed the rating for reasons of a smutty nature. And now I go hide under a rock and hope no one finds me.

Castiel sleeps better than he has in a long time after they return to the bunker. It feels like the weight on his chest has finally lifted and he can breath easy again. The other two seem to notice almost immediately, in the way there’s a lightness in his words and a spring in his step. Cas feels like he’s on top of the world and nothing can bring him down.

 

There are no secrets between them anymore, about Cas’ past or what he did and somehow, it makes things easier. Dean knows him, and loves him still and Cas couldn’t ask for anything more.

 

 _Well_ , Cas thinks to himself, _perhaps there is one thing_.

 

As the days grow shorter and the nights longer, Cas can feel the instinct to find a mate and build a nest creeping up on him. It’s evident in the way he hovers around Dean all the time, craving his affection and touch. Dean doesn’t seem to think his behavior is any different from the norm, but Sam can sense the subtle changes and at one point, he sits down to talk to Cas about it.

 

Asking Sam for permission to become Dean’s mate almost feels like asking for his hand in marriage and in some ways, he supposes it’s the same. There’s no ceremony, no aisle to walk down or fancy clothes to dress in, but there is the promise of a lifetime of happiness with his nest mate. Cas doesn’t doubt that Dean will say yes, but there’s still a part of him that can’t help remember all the other years he’s gone without finding a mate. To his knowledge, he’s one of the only few fully grown angels that remains unattached. Before, that fact might have been something he would have boasted. He had no distractions that would take his focus away from a mission, no need to worry about a partner’s safety if they went into battle together. But now, he thinks he can see the appeal of having someone to spend the rest of his life with.

 

Sam gives his blessing wholeheartedly, smiling at the thought of his brother finally having the happiness he deserves. In the lifestyle they lead, it’s hard to find someone who understands and is willing to stick around. Dean used to say that this life had to be no attachments, for their own good. That’s what Sam tells him, but now that they’ve met, Dean seems to be throwing that principle out the window. It feels strangely comforting to know that Dean has changed how he thinks about his love life because of him.

 

However, despite this fact, it still takes a few days for Cas to work up the courage to ask Dean. After all, it’s a question that will change both of their lives for good. Cas knows that humans tend towards temporary relationships, ones that end in breakups or divorces, or even relationships that don’t last more than a night. According to Sam, the latter was the method Dean preferred when it came to people he was with. For angels, things are much different. There are no one night stands in Heaven. When angels form a bond with someone, it lasts the rest of their existence.

 

It’s a big commitment, Cas realizes. Especially for Dean, so he puts off asking for weeks, until the craving for closeness and affection is even noticed by the hunter.

 

“You okay, Cas?” Dean asks. They’re in the kitchen and even though they’re holding hands and standing right next to each other as they wait for the coffee to finish brewing, Cas doesn’t feel close enough. He wraps a wing around Dean in an attempt to remedy it and he sighs a bit as it relieves some of the tension in his muscles.

 

“Fine,” Cas says, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

 

“Right,” Dean says, clearly not convinced. “You’ve been acting funny for days now. Something going on you’re not telling me?”

 

Cas hides his face in Dean’s shirt and draws comfort from the earthy scent of the man. He sighs again and his wing brushes up against Dean’s other side, caressing his arm gently.

 

“It’s almost mating season for me. My body desires affection, closeness with another. I’m sorry if it’s an inconvenience,” Cas mumbles.

 

“Oh. Well, why didn’t you say so? I’m more than happy to cuddle with you for a few more hours than strictly necessary,” Dean jokes, a little laugh bubbling up from him.

 

“I didn’t want to seem needy,” Cas replies. “I don’t particularly like this time of the year. I’ve always spent it alone. It’s very irritating and upsetting.”

 

“Well you’re not alone this time, babe. Whatever you need, I’m here, Cas,” Dean says. He brushes a hand through Cas’ messy hair and the angel hums contently, leaning into the touch.

 

“Even if...” Cas trails off, glad that his face is hidden in Dean’s shirt so he can’t see him blush. “If I needed...more than just cuddling?”

 

Dean is quiet for a moment and Cas can hear the hunter’s heart rate increase.

 

“Yeah. Of course, Cas, but uh, only if you’re sure,” Dean murmurs. “Don’t wanna do anything you’re not ready for.”

 

Cas nods and he swallows before looking up at Dean, who’s staring down the coffee maker as it gurgles and hisses. He stands up a little straighter, so that he’s almost as tall as Dean and turns the hunter to face him, holding his face gently in his hands.

 

“I am sure. But before we do this, I need _you_ to be sure you want this,” Cas says.

 

“Of course I do,” Dean replies, as if the possibility of any other answer is ridiculous.  

 

“You know that if we form this bond, it’s forever, right? There would be no...no going back after it’s done,” Cas says, biting his lip nervously. He’s prepared in case Dean says no, but he kind of hopes he won’t.

 

“I know, Cas. I want it. I want that forever with you,” Dean says, smiling and placing a hand on Cas’ cheek. Cas purrs and leans into his touch, causing Dean to chuckle at the sight. He kisses the angel’s forehead and stares down into his eyes. “I love you. And that won’t ever change.”

 

Cas nods and blinks a few times to keep himself from tearing up. Dean smiles and Cas leans in, pressing his lips to the hunter’s. The contact makes his body sing and his wings curl forward to wrap around Dean protectively. Dean gasps into their kiss and then Cas can feel a hand on the back of his neck, tilting his head to deepen it. Dean places his other hand in the small of Cas’ back and tugs him even closer.

 

They only pull apart when Sam enters the room and lets out a groan at the sight of them.

 

“Gross! Get a room!” he exclaims, a joking smile on his face.

 

“Shut up Sammy. You’re just jealous cause you’re not getting any,” Dean shoots back, smirking before he turns to Cas and kisses him again, just to spite his brother. He slides the hand on Cas’ back up into his feathers, gripping tightly and drawing a gasp from the angel. He shivers and drops his head onto Dean’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut.

 

“Whoa, are you okay?” Dean asks, taking a step back.

 

“That...felt better than I expected,” Cas manages, nerves still tingling. “My wings are very sensitive, especially during mating season.”

 

“Oh,” Dean says. He grins wickedly and combs his fingers through Cas’ feathers again. Cas’ legs start to tremble and he holds onto Dean, panting into the hunter’s neck.

 

“Th-that feels very good, Dean,” he gasps out.

 

“Oh, gosh, guys really?” Sam says, face scrunching up. He shakes his head and grabs his coffee before retreating from the room. “Just...clean up after you’re done, jerk!”

 

“Bitch!” Dean calls back. He turns to Cas and smiles at him. “Now, where were we?”

 

Dean takes Cas face in his hands and kisses him deeply, tongue delving into the angel’s mouth. Cas whimpers, hands tightening their grip on Dean’s jacket. He can feel something stirring inside him, his grace flaring up in response to Dean’s touch, reaching out for connection with the other man’s soul. It’s almost overwhelming and he wonders if this is normal, if this is how the other angels felt when they found their mate.

 

“Dean, please,” he says when they pull apart. “I need you.”  

 

“What do you need, babe?” Dean murmurs, kissing along Cas’ jaw line before he nips at the angel’s earlobe. Cas shivers and his wings twitch, trying to pull Dean even closer than they already are.

 

“Make love to me,” Cas whispers. Dean lets out a huff that tickles Cas’ skin and he leans back, staring at him with wide green eyes.

 

“Are you sure?” he asks.

 

“Yes. Yes, beloved, I’m sure. I need you, please,” Cas says, surprised at how close he is to begging. Dean swallows hard and he nods. He kisses Cas again and the angel feels Dean’s hands on the backs of his thighs. Cas gets the idea and he jumps, wrapping his legs around Dean’s waist. Dean grins against his lips and he carries Cas to their room.

 

Cas sighs as Dean lowers him to the bed and tilts his head back when Dean presses butterfly kisses along his throat. His breath hitches when he feels Dean bite down gently, sucking a bruise into Cas’ skin. His legs tighten around Dean’s waist, bringing their hips flush together and surprising a groan out of the hunter. Dean pulls back and his hair's a mess from Cas running his fingers through it. He smiles down at him like Cas hung all the stars in the sky and it sets the angel’s heart aflutter, warmth flowing through his veins and butterflies dancing in his stomach.

 

“What?” Dean asks when Cas looks away from him with a shy noise, hiding his face with his hands.

 

“Nobody’s ever looked at me like that,” Cas mumbles into his hands.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like I’m something special.”

 

Dean just reaches down and pries Cas’ hands away, taking one and pressing a kiss to each of his fingers.

 

“Well you _are_ special. You’re strong and kind and brave and you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Dean whispers. “You deserve someone who’s going to take care of you. Someone who sees you for how amazing you really are.”

 

Cas smiles and this time, it’s his turn to smile up at Dean until the hunter looks away shyly.

 

“That someone is you, Dean. It’s always been you,” he says.

 

Dean leans down and touches his forehead to Cas’, emerald eyes staring into sapphire ones with such intensity that Cas feels like maybe Dean is seeing his grace where it lies beneath his human form. Cas closes his eyes, unable to bear that level of scrutiny, afraid of what Dean might find and he tilts his head for a kiss instead. If Dean is aware of what he’s thinking somehow, he doesn’t say anything about it. He only cups Cas’ cheek gently and moves his lips, kissing Cas in a way that makes happiness bloom in his chest.

 

“I love you,” Dean murmurs against him. “Always will.”

 

“And I you, beloved,” Cas whispers.

 

They kiss for a while longer. Cas doesn’t know how long. It could be minutes. It could be hours. All he knows is that he’ll never tire of Dean’s lips pressed warmly against his own, of the way Dean is holding him like he’s something precious. When they finally break apart, Cas is breathless, lips swollen and red, much like Dean’s. Cas licks his lips and doesn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes follow the movement of his tongue, like the hunter is all too eager to dive back in and taste him again. And while Cas would love nothing more than to just lie in bed kissing Dean all day, he can still feel the low thrum of his grace beneath his skin, calling out for the man above him, craving completion with him.

 

Cas swallows hard and he brings trembling fingers to his shirt buttons. He manages to get the top two undone but then Dean finishes the job when Cas can’t. Dean moves so Cas can sit up and shrug his shirt off his shoulders. Even in the dim lighting of their room, his scars stand out starkly against his skin and Cas can’t help but feel self conscious. Dean has seen them before, yes, but Cas still doesn’t know what he thought of them. He hates to think that Dean might see him as ugly or deformed because of them.

 

Before he can stop them, his wings move from around Dean’s body and instead cover Cas’ chest protectively, preventing the hunter from seeing him properly. Dean looks at them and then up at Cas, questioning look in his eyes.

 

“I’m sorry. I know they’re not the most pleasant to look at,” Cas mumbles.

 

“Nonsense, sweetheart. I already told you. You’re beautiful. All of you,” Dean says. He leans closer and pushes Cas’ wings away gently before pressing a kiss to the angel’s chest. Cas gasps when he feels Dean kiss along the lines of his scars, shivers when kisses turn to licks that leave behind wet trails that make Cas’ skin erupt in goosebumps.

 

Dean pushes Cas back into the mattress and takes his hands, holding them up above his head while he kisses and nips at Cas’ collarbone. He lets go once he’s sure Cas isn’t going to move them and Dean trails lower and lower. He sucks a mark into one of the angel’s hipbones and Cas squirms, gasping and clenching his hands into fists.

 

Cas feels hands at his belt buckle and Dean pauses long enough to look up at him through his lashes.

 

“We can stop anytime,” Dean reminds him. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

 

Cas just shakes his head.

 

“Don’t stop,” he urges. “I want this.”

 

Dean nods and Cas hears a clink as Dean undoes his belt and it makes a soft noise against the fabric of Cas’ jeans as Dean slides it out of the loops. It clinks again when Dean drops it off the side of the bed to join Cas’ shirt on the floor. Dean unzips the jeans and with another go ahead from Cas, slides them down the angel’s hips. He taps Cas on the thigh to get him to lift up long enough for Dean to tug them the rest of the way down. They get tangled in Cas’ shoes and socks that he’s still wearing and Dean chuckles to himself as he stops to take care of those too. Cas’ shoes clunk to the floor and in the next second he can hear his jeans follow. His feet are bare and he wiggles his toes a bit, giggling and jumping when Dean trails a fingertip along the undersides of them.

 

“Thought you weren’t ticklish,” Dean teases, fingers hovering over Cas’ feet threateningly.

 

“Don’t you dare,” Cas warns. “I’ll kick you.”

 

Dean raises his eyebrow as if challenging that statement, but he leaves Cas’ feet alone and crawls back up the bed to kiss the angel instead. Cas runs his hands along Dean’s back and he grips the hunter’s shirt and tugs upward, attempting to rid his lover of the offending article. Except that Dean isn’t expecting it and he gets stuck, leaving a brief moment of confusion and amusement where he tries to untangle himself from his own shirt. Cas laughs and Dean pokes his stomach in retaliation.

 

After the shirt mishap, Cas lets Dean take care of his own clothes and it doesn’t take long before they’re both down to nothing but their boxers. Despite his eagerness and his mating instincts telling him that he should be raring to go, Cas still can’t help being nervous. He’s never done anything like this before. He doesn’t know what he likes, if it will hurt, or how it’s supposed to feel.

 

“You alright?” Dean asks, ever the perceptive one when it comes to his angel.

 

“Nervous,” Cas admits. “What if I do something wrong? What if - what if it doesn’t feel good?” What if you don’t like it? What if-”

 

“Baby, it’s all going to be okay. Trust me. I’m going to make this the best for you, okay?” Dean assures him.

 

“But-”

 

“No more ‘what ifs’, Cas. I got you. You’re going to be okay. And remember, you can always stop me if I do something you don’t like,” Dean says. “Understand?”

 

Cas nods and Dean combs his fingers through Cas’ hair affectionately. He leans into the touch, drawing comfort from it and he sighs in something like relief when Dean starts with something simple - kissing.

 

Ever so slowly, Dean makes his way down Cas’ body, worshipping the angel with hands and mouth. Cas is panting and writhing, swearing in Enochian whenever Dean sucks another mark into his skin. His eyes are shut tightly, but he already knows what he must look like now, with dark bruises all over his chest and neck. It sends a thrill through him, knowing he’s been marked up by his mate, that anyone who might see the love bites Dean gifted him with will know who he belongs to.

 

“Turn over,” Dean whispers when he reaches Cas’ stomach, placing a hand on it gently to urge him into moving.

 

Cas obeys and turns so he’s on his hands and knees. His wings are fanned out behind him, extended almost to their full length, but he brings them closer on Dean’s request. He lets out another curse when he feels Dean’s hands in his feathers, combing through them gently at first then more roughly. Every so often, he feels the scrape of nails against the sensitive wings and his arms struggle to hold him up. Dean massages closer and closer to the base of Cas’ wings and he trembles the closer the hunter gets to touching the oil glands hidden beneath his feathers. When Dean touches them, Cas sees white and he shivers through the pleasure that trips up and down his nerves.

 

Dean brushes them again and Cas cries out, wings trembling and arching to give Dean better access and he collapses onto the bed, unable to hold himself up anymore under the overwhelming pleasure racing through him.

 

“What’s this? Angel sweet spot?” Dean asks curiously, massaging the walnut-sized lump buried beneath Cas’ feathers. He makes a sound when his fingers come away wet and Cas is too far gone to interpret whether it’s shock, disgust, or intrigue.

 

“I-It’s for - _ah_!” Cas gasps as Dean rubs his fingers back and forth across his oil gland, making more of the substance seep out and soak the nearby feathers. “F-For my wings. It - _ahh,_ just like that Dean - it keeps them clean.”

 

“Well now, it does more than that, wouldn’t you say?” Dean says and Cas can hear the smirk in his voice.

 

“They also...also produce more when - ohhh - when an angel is aroused,” Cas manages.

 

“So,” Dean says, rubbing his hands along the lengths of Cas’ wings, grooming the oil into them. “Basically what you’re saying is, it turns you on big time.”

 

“If by that you mean I - _nnh_ \- I want you to hurry up and get inside me, then yes,” Cas groans out.

 

Dean pulls his hands out of Cas’ wings then and Cas whines in disappointment and protest.

 

“I know, baby. But I want to see your face when we do this,” Dean says. Cas, despite the haze of pleasure surrounding him, appreciates Dean’s thoughtfulness and he can’t argue with that. Cas nods and turns over again.

 

“I’m sorry it’s so messy,” Cas mumbles, knowing that the sheets are getting soaked the longer he lies there.

 

“It’s alright, Cas. Besides, it’s kinda hot - knowing I got you all wet,” Dean replies, a dirty grin on his face that sends shivers down Cas’ spine. Dean kisses him hard and Cas is so caught up in it he doesn’t notice where Dean’s hand is sneaking until he feels it brush against the front of his boxers. Cas gasps against him, lifting his hips slightly, seeking more solid contact.

 

“These are gonna have to go if we’re doing this,” Dean murmurs. “You okay with that?”

 

Cas nods and he moves away from Dean long enough to hastily rid himself of the last of his clothing.  Dean slides his own off and then puts a pillow under Cas to support his hips. He moves away briefly and reaches into the drawer in the nightstand to pull out a small bottle of lubricant. Cas watches him, a jumble of anticipation and arousal and nerves all wound up tight in his stomach. Dean places a gentle hand on Cas’ knee and the angel lets his legs fall open so his lover can fit between them. He swallows audibly when Dean opens the bottle with a click that sounds unreasonably loud in their quiet room. He’s aware that Dean is watching him, gauging his reaction to everything and Cas takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, trying to relax.

 

He’s expecting to feel Dean’s cold, wet fingers at his entrance, so he’s a bit surprised when Dean places a hand on his cheek.

 

“Cas, are you sure you want to do this?” Dean asks. Cas opens his eyes and stares up at his lover. He doesn’t look upset or disappointed. Just concerned. Cas feels a bit guilty, for making it seem like he doesn’t want this with every fiber of his being, because he does. He absolutely does.

 

“Yes, but...maybe you could help me relax?” Cas asks shyly. “I’m sorry, Dean. I just...”

 

He trails off but Dean just shakes his head, smiling softly at him.

 

“It’s fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands,” he assures him. Cas nods and Dean kisses him, reaching around behind him to thread his fingers into Cas’ wings again. It feels nice and Cas sighs, wings fluttering slightly. Dean’s hands slip further down Cas’ body, gripping his hips and pulling them flush together. Dean is still wearing his boxers and the fabric rubs against Cas’ heated flesh, sending sparks flying up and down his spine. He gasps and thrusts up, seeking more friction and then Dean is moving, lower and lower until Cas feels Dean’s mouth on him and he cries out. The lights in the room flicker on and off, Cas steadily losing control over his grace the more Dean pleasures him.

 

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas moans, eyes fluttering shut as a hand slips into the hunter’s short brown hair.

 

Dean hums in response and the vibration makes Cas buck up into his mouth. Dean seems to be anticipating it and moves with him, before he grabs his hips and steadies them. Dean pulls back to press a kiss to the tip of Cas’ erection and the angel shivers, wings twitching periodically beneath him. He moans again, words in slurred Enochian escaping him as Dean wraps a hand around him and strokes slowly, but not nearly enough for Cas to reach any sort of completion.

 

“You’re so beautiful like this, Cas,” Dean whispers when he pulls back. Cas babbles something in response that might not even be English and Dean just laughs softly, marveling the fact that Cas is already struck speechless. “Just wait, sweetheart. It gets even better,” Dean promises.

 

 _How can anything be better than this_? Cas wonders. He can barely string a sentence together as it is. He isn’t even sure if he could handle better. Dean, on the other hand, seems to have faith in him. He feels Dean’s mouth on him again, kissing a trail from where his hand is still moving slowly, lower to Cas’ entrance where he feels Dean press his lips to the tight muscle there.

 

Cas moans loud enough that he’s certain Sam can hear him and the lights go out for longer this time as Dean kisses and licks at him.

 

“D-Dean, that - that feels-”

 

He chokes on a scream when he feels Dean stiffen his tongue and push it inside him. His wings thrash and he thinks he hears something fall to the ground, but he couldn’t care less right now. Dean moans in response and Cas feels like he’s been struck by lightning, nerves a live wire of ecstasy. His toes curl in the sheets and he pushes his hips back for more.

 

“ _Please_ ,” he begs. “Dean, please, m-more.”

 

Dean hums in acknowledgement and then Cas can feel the tip of a finger tracing his rim before slowly slipping in alongside Dean’s tongue. Cas whimpers as Dean strokes inside him and he doesn’t even notice when Dean adds another finger until his lover is scissoring them and stretching him. Dean brushes against a spot inside him and Cas sees white for a second, shaking as he cries out Dean’s name.

 

The hunter pulls back slightly, though his fingers are still thrusting lazily in and out of Cas. He smiles up at his angel, taking in the flushed skin and the heaving chest as Cas tries to get air into his lungs. Cas blinks down at him and starts to say that he’s ready when Dean’s fingers suddenly disappear, leaving him feeling strangely empty.

 

“Why’d you-”

 

“Relax, sweetheart. Gotta make sure you’re wet enough,” Dean says, winking up at him and making Cas’ heart stutter in his chest. Dean grabs the bottle of lube and squeezes some out onto his fingers, rubbing them to warm it up a bit before he slides them back in. Cas moans and tosses his head back, hands scrabbling at the sheets for something to hold onto.

 

After what seems like forever, Cas manages to gasp out, “I’m ready.”

 

Dean pauses and Cas whines, thrusting down on him to get him moving again.

 

“Are you-”

 

“ _Yes_! I’m sure, beloved. I need you, now!” Cas says, squirming impatiently. Dean smiles and he kisses Cas before he reaches for the lube. Cas sees and grabs his wrist, looking up at him shyly. “C-Can I...?”

 

Dean swallows hard and Cas thinks he sees his lover’s eyes go a darker shade of green.

 

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he murmurs huskily, letting Cas take the bottle from his hands. Cas can feel his heart racing as he takes Dean in his hand and strokes slowly. Dean lets out a rumbling groan and thrusts up into Cas’ hand. Cas takes that as a sign he’s doing good and keeps moving his hand until Dean is panting, cheeks flushed and highlighting his freckles. Cas can’t help staring, unable to believe he has such a beautiful man for a mate.

 

“Cas,” Dean breathes, reaching down and stopping Cas’ hand. He doesn’t even give Cas time to think he’s done something wrong. “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up.”

 

Cas pulls away, an apology on his lips before Dean is tugging him into a kiss.

 

"Don't apologize, babe," he says, "You're so good. So good for me, Castiel."

 

He shivers at the use of his full name and Dean kisses him until Cas is tugging him closer with his legs.

 

"Dean, please. I need you inside me."

 

Dean nods and he positions himself at Cas' entrance. He pushes in slowly and Cas gasps when he feels the head slide in. Dean stops, gripping Cas' hips tightly as he tries to let the angel adjust. Cas huffs, already feeling so much fuller than when it was just Dean's fingers. He tenses slightly when Dean shifts and they both gasp at the sensation.

 

"Baby, th-this isn't gonna last that long if you do that," Dean manages, breathing heavily. Cas swallows and he relaxes again. Dean pushes in the rest of the way and Cas moans when his lover bottoms out inside him. For a long moment, neither of them move.

 

"Dean," Cas gasps, wrapping his legs around Dean's hips. "Move."

 

Dean nods and he pulls back until he's almost slipped out of Cas, before he thrusts back in. The angel cries out and his back arches, hands flying up to grab Dean's shoulders. Dean does it again, moving so slowly it's driving Cas mad and he tugs Dean closer with his legs.

 

"Harder, Dean. I won't break."

 

"Are you-"

 

“I - _oh fuck, Dean_ \- yes I'm sure!" Cas moans, his wings curling up to wrap around his lover.

 

"Damn, Cas, you're hot when you swear," Dean nearly growls, staring down at him hungrily. He leans down and kisses Cas deeply, though it's more like them breathing in each other's air as Dean moves. The hunter shifts his position a bit to get more leverage and then Cas is sobbing with pleasure as Dean hits that special spot inside him over and over.

 

“Dean, it feels-”

 

“Yeah, babe?”

 

“It...It - oh, yes beloved, there - feels so...so good,” Cas pants. He lets out little ‘ah ah’ noises every time Dean thrusts inside him and his very being lights up with pleasure. When Dean gasps, half surprise and half lust, Cas realizes that the light isn’t strictly metaphorical either. Even though he can’t see himself, he knows his eyes are starting to glow blue-white. He shuts them, trying to hold off his climax a little longer. But then Dean moves his legs so they’re over his shoulders and Cas gets that much closer to completely losing control.

 

“Cas, you’re - oh god - you’re so damn _beautiful_ ,” Dean gasps. He leans down to kiss Cas and seems surprised when the angel’s flexibility actually allows him to do so. Cas whines into Dean’s mouth at the change in angle and he can feel the sheets underneath him getting absolutely soaked with his wing oil. Dean slides his hands into Cas’ feathers and grips tightly. Whether he just wants to hold Cas or if he’s trying to get better leverage doesn’t matter because then Cas goes taut as a bowstring, mouth open on a scream as the lights shatter and explode.

 

Dean cries his name and he shudders as his hips stutter to a stop. Cas gasps, gripping the hunter’s shoulder tightly as he feels Dean’s soul colliding with his grace, the room shining brightly as the two become one. He feels Dean trembling above him as the bond is completed and Cas can feel the love overflowing from his mate’s soul. When the light finally dims, he opens his eyes and Dean is there smiling down at him, breathless and shaky. He manages to lower Cas’ legs off his shoulders and he pulls out of the angel carefully before he flops over to the side, chest rising and falling rapidly as he regains his breath.

 

“That was...” Dean starts, unable to find words.

 

“Yes,” Cas agrees, curling into Dean’s side and throwing an arm over his chest. Dean sighs pleasantly and moves his arm to wrap around Cas’ shoulders, when Cas feels a twinge of pain through their bond and then some amount of confusion. Dean makes an odd noise and he’s examining his shoulder, surprised to find a handprint burned into his skin.

 

“What the?” he mutters, raising his other hand and poking at the mark.

 

“Oh,” Cas says, blushing when he realizes what happened. “I’m sorry, beloved. That was my fault.”

 

“What did you do?” Dean asks, staring at Cas and then at the handprint.

 

“Normally, the bond is merely spiritual, but because I grabbed you, it manifested physically as well,” Cas explains. Dean nods in understanding and he pokes at the mark again. Cas reaches over and fits his hand over it. He can feel the power of their bond thrumming beneath Dean’s skin to where soul and grace become one and he smiles.

 

“I guess it kind of serves me right,” Dean mumbles, gesturing to Cas’ body that’s marked up with hickeys. Cas blushes again and shrugs.

 

“I don’t mind.”

 

Dean grins and he kisses Cas’ forehead. The angel hums and snuggles closer to him.

 

“We should clean up,” Dean murmurs after a while, glancing down at the mess between them. Cas merely waves a hand and they're both clean in the blink of an eye. Dean chuckles and Cas smiles. “That works too I guess.”

 

They lie there in silence for a time, simply enjoying each other’s presence. Cas feels amazing, like he’s finally complete now that he and Dean are mated. He presses a kiss to Dean’s chest, places a hand over his anti-possession tattoo and feels the beat of his heart underneath.

 

“Mine,” he whispers, more to himself than to Dean. But the hunter hears him and he runs a hand through Cas’ hair, the angel leaning into his touch with another hum of contentment. 

 

“Yours, Cas. Always.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meeeehhhhhh, I hope that wasn’t horrible. That’s like, the smuttiest smut I’ll probably ever write. I don’t know how other people do it. I'm too much of a wuss to even go into explicit details. Baah, oh well. 
> 
> Anyways, this is the last chapter! Thank you all so much for sticking with this until the end. I love reading all your comments and seeing people give this kudos and bookmark it make me super happy. I like writing, but as most you out of there know, it’s difficult at times, but getting all this support and love really helps! So thanks again and hopefully I’ll see you again when I eventually embark on writing some other thing. (I’ve already got something in mind, but I just have to flesh it out and figure out what I wanna do with it. Hopefully it’ll go well.)


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